Is This a Bad Time?
by Ecmm
Summary: A DracoxOC story. Lark Fissure never knew she was a wizard, until one day while selling chocolates she stumbled across a talking kettle, and suddenly nothing was ever the same again.
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One: Chocolates**

* * *

My school has a fundraiser every year for the year nines. At the end of the year they give you a box of chocolates, and you go out and sell them to everyone. Most people's family's just buy the box, that's the easiest way. My family, however, hates candy. Including me. Well, I don't hate it. Just despise it. 

So, I have to go out and sell the boxes to our street. And no one ever wants any.

I knocked on a door, getting my salesperson smile ready. A young man, maybe in his early twenties, opened the door. He looked at me and then at the chocolates, and smiled.

'Hello.' I said brightly. 'I was wondering if you wanted to buy some chocolate.'

'What kind ya got?' He said, leaning on the door frame.

'Chocolate Frogs in all kinds of flavors, Caramello Koalas, Time-Outs, Flakes, Cherry Ripes, umm,'

'I'll take a mint Chocolate Frog.' He interrupted, grinning. I took his dollar and left for the next house.

I'd done most of the street and it was almost dinner time. I'd sold eleven chocolates, mainly Frogs of course.

'I'll do just two more houses.' I told myself, and knocked.

'Hello?' The man said in a Spanish accent.

'Hi, um, I was wondering if you wanted to buy some chocolate!' I said in my bright voice with my bright face. "A smile sells anything," my dad always said, "except government lies."

'Chocolate?' The man said with a confused tone, as if he'd never heard of it before.

'Um, you know. Milk chocolate, candy. Ah..' I said, but he'd turned away from me.

'Jan? JAN!' He yelled. A crotchety old woman's voice answered.

'What? Who's at the door?'

'A girl selling chocolate.'

'Chocolate! Tell her to go away. Blasted American things!'

The man turned back to me, and I renewed the bright smile.

'The chocolate, that's American, isn't it?' He said, smiling for once. I grinned and nodded. Was it? I had no idea.

'Tell her to go away!' Jan's voice called.

'Yes, we don't like American things.' The man said, still smiling. My face fell, I was going for the deserted puppy look. It sold chocolates, sometimes.

'Oh, thanks for your time.' I said, giving him a half-hearted smile.

'We don't like American things.' He repeated, and shut the door firmly.

I scowled at the door's solid surface before sighing and turning away. I heard the pop of a light globe, and then a tinkling of shattered glass. My dad says that they're making light globes cheaper and cheaper lately. Ours are always popping too.

I sighed again and moved on to the last house. Just one more and I could go home.

I knocked, and waited. After a minute I knocked again.

Maybe they'd seen me coming up the drive, and didn't want any chocolate. _Please,_ I begged silently. _Please just buy one chocolate._ I knew they were home, because the car was in the drive and the lights were on.

I knocked for a final time, and to my surprise the door swung open, and a deep voice said "Come in".

I jumped, there was no one there. How did the door open? Who had spoken?

'Hello?' I called, stepping in hesitantly. 'Would you like to buy some chocolate?'

No one answered. Had I imagined the voice? I shook my head. No I had not.

'I'm in here.' The voice said again, causing me to jump again. I followed the sound of it into what must have been the lounge room.

But again, there was no one there.

'Hello?' I called softly, feeling scared. I shouldn't have come in.

'Yes?' The voice said from beside me, and I leapt away from it, giving a small scream.

There was no one there.

'What's going on?' I whispered.

And this time I saw it when it spoke.

'Did you say you were selling chocolate?'

The small golden kettle on the mantelpiece. The lid moved in time to the voice, all by itself. I took a step away from it. The voice was definitely coming from it.

'Well come on.' The kettle said again. 'What kind have you got?'

'I, I,' I stuttered. What kind of chocolate did kettles like, anyway?

I started towards the hall I'd come from. Maybe the chocolate fumes were getting to me? I was probably overtired.

'Hey! Where're you going?' The kettle called.

At that moment, there was a gunshot. I cried out and leapt away from the hallway, back into the lounge with the kettle. Who was shooting at me?

'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' I sobbed, curled up on the floor.

'She knocked three times so I let her in!' The kettle said brightly.

I peeked out of my arms. Standing in the hallway where I'd been a moment before was a man. He was your average-looking man, blue shirt, black pants. Slightly bald. Thankfully, he wasn't holding a gun.

Slowly I got to my feet. He was looking just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. Had he come in while I was on the floor? What was the gunshot?

'I, I'm sorry, the kettle let me in.' I said foolishly. Then, now that the situation was somewhat saner, I looked at the kettle curiously. 'And, how do you do that?'

The man gaped from me to the kettle, which was silent now.

'You, you can hear it?' He asked.

He took a step closer, and I recognized him. He was Mr. Murray from the supermarket, I saw him all the time when I was getting food on my shopping days.

'Um, yes?' I said, feeling strange. 'How, how are you doing it? And, what was that bang before?'

He scrutinized me, and then glared at the kettle, which was staying silent.

'You're, you're that Lark girl, from down the road, aren't you?' He said suddenly. I nodded.

'She's selling chocolate.' The kettle said suddenly. 'Please buy me a Cherry Ripe?'

'Shut up.' Mr. Murray snapped at it. 'What did the kettle just say?' He directed the last part at me.

'Um, "Please buy me a Cherry Ripe"?'

He stared at me. Suddenly, there was another gunshot, except this time I didn't cower. And to my surprise, quite as suddenly as Mr. Murray had appeared, there was suddenly a woman standing next to him. She took one look at me and swore.

'The kettle let her in.' Mr. Murray explained. I realized this was probably Mrs. Murray standing next to him. Unfortunately, my brain was too busy trying to figure out how she'd appeared to say anything.

'The kettle..? Oh, you stupid piece of metal. I _told_ you we should have taken the charm off her George.' Mrs. Murray said crossly.

'What!' The kettle cried. 'She knocked three times! So I let her in!'

'She can hear him.' Mr. Murray explained to Mrs. Murray. 'Except, she lives down the road. She's Lark Fissure.'

Mrs. Murray's eyes shot to look at me. '_You're_ Lark Fissure? And you can hear the kettle?'

I nodded slowly. What was going on?

'How old are you, Lark?' Mr. Murray asked. 'Fourteen?'

'Almost fifteen.' I corrected him.

'Fifteen…' Mrs. Murray mused. 'But didn't Frank say…'

They turned away and talked quietly between themselves. My brain was slowly un-numbing, and I shook my head to clear it further. Frank was my father's name, what was going on…?

Mrs. Murray suddenly straightened up and looked at me apologetically. Then she nodded at Mr. Murray.

Mr. Murray sighed and put his hand into his pocket. Something in me grew frightened, and I jumped as the light globes started popping. And then, my mind went blank.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Jan and the strange Spanish man actually exist, and a similar thing happened to me and my friends one haloween.  
Anyway, now the story actually starts. Hope it's alright


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two: Secrets and Surprises

* * *

**

I woke up with a bad headache. I groaned and tried to move, but suddenly my father's face swam into my vision.

'Lark? How are you feeling?'

'I sold eleven chocolates dad, and you're right, a smile _does_ work.' I told him. He frowned and turned to one of my brothers.

'Harry, go get one of your chocolate frogs.'

'One of mine?' Harry said. 'Do you mean…?'

'Yup.'

I lay still and closed my eyes, smiling. Then I stopped. Chocolate? Why was a smiling? I _hate_ chocolate.

My eyes snapped open. Why was I lying on my bed? I had been out selling chocolates.

'Dad? What's going on?' I asked suspiciously.

'I'm not sure, you tell me.' He said. Something in his tone was rehearsed, almost as if we were in a stage-play. 'The Murray's came home and you were collapsed on their front steps. Do you remember anything?'

I thought. I remembered I'd been selling chocolates, and I remembered something about a Spanish man and someone called Jan.

'No…' I said cautiously. 'I remember selling chocolates… and then…' Things were coming back to me. 'I remember a _really_ strange dream.' I laughed. 'Except, I don't think it was a dream. Or something.' I frowned.

At that moment Harry came back into the room, holding something tightly in his hands.

'Got it.' He said, giving me a worried look. 'But Dad…'

'Don't worry.' Dad took the thing – which I guess was probably chocolate – and then came over to me.

'Open wide Darling.' He said and I, strangely enough, complied.

When he put the chocolate in my mouth, I could have sworn that for a moment it wriggled as if it was alive. My eyes bulged and I stared at Harry, had they just fed me worms?

But no. I could taste chocolate. The vile sweetness had invaded my mouth, and I grimaced.

But it hadn't happened before I'd seen my brother put a strange box behind his back. Where had he gotten "his" chocolate from? Something was going on.

'Dad, have you ever been to the Murray's house?' I asked, once Harry had gone. Dad shrugged and nodded.

'Well, yeah. Used to be good friends with them.'

'Used to be?'

'We had a, disagreement.'

'Oh.'

I managed to swallow all of the chocolate though the taste still remained.

'Did you ever see their talking kettle?' I asked suddenly.

'Yeh- no.'

I looked at him. He looked at me sternly.

'No, I absolutely did not see their talking kettle.' He said, looking me right in the eye.

I continued to look at him pointedly. My dad is a bad liar.

'Dad,' I said warningly, 'what's going on?'

'Nothing, Lark.' He said firmly. 'You must be unwell, you should lie down.'

He eventually left, and I got off my bed. It wasn't fair, I always felt like my family were keeping something from me. They'd give each other these looks full of meaning, but I wasn't sure what. When I came home from a friend's house, the house always felt sort of… different, and my brothers Harry and Luke were always talking about things, and they'd stop when I came into the room.

'Right.' I muttered. 'Mystery number one: The talking kettle.'

I was positive it hadn't been a dream. And Dad's shaky answer partly reinforced that belief.

I knew I couldn't solve the kettle mystery right then and there, so I went to the second mystery.

The chocolate.

I left my room and wandered upstairs to Harry's room. The door was shut, so I knew he was inside. I paused before knocking.

'Who is it?' He called.

'It's me, Lark.' I answered.

'Just a minute!' I heard him say, and then he sneezed a few times.

Harry is always sneezing. Mum, Dad and Luke do too, I suppose. But I notice Harry the most. He has this funny way of doing it. I like to try and figure out the words people say when they sneeze. Like, I say "Hatchoo", whereas, the rest of my family's sounds more like "Ackioh".

The door opened a few moments later and Harry smiled at me. 'Feeling better?'

'Much.' I said, and then made sure I stumbled a bit as I went into his room. 'Oh, I'm still a bit funny though. Dad sent me up to get some more chocolate.'

He stopped then, and stared at me. I made sure to stumble again before sinking onto his bed heavily.

'Oh, okay.' He said slowly, going over to a draw.

He made sure his back was to me, which I thought was strange.

'Here you go.' He said, and I saw him put the box on top of the drawers. 'I'll feed it to you.'

'Kay.' I said, and opened my mouth.

As soon as he put it in I spat it onto my hand, leaping up and running out of the room while he was still yelling 'hey' and trying to make me stop.

'Dad! Catch her! She's got a Frog!' Harry yelled as I leapt down the stairs and out the front door.

As I slammed the front door, I heard all of the lights pop and shatter. Again, they always seemed to do it at the same time.

'What's going _on_?!' I cried.

When I got to the park, I opened my hand. As I'd been running, I'd imagined I could feel the Frog moving, and now as I looked, I realized it hadn't just been a feeling.

On my palm, sat a frog. It was brown, and made completely of chocolate. I stared as it straightened out its legs, and suddenly leapt off my hand. I watched it spring away.

'What…the…'

I decided that if I really wanted some answers, I'd have to go to the Murray house.

It was around seven o'clock, but it was still light, so I wasn't afraid of being caught out at night.

I knocked on the door quietly. Then I paused and knocked again. And again.

As before, the door swung open, and the voice of the kettle said "Come in".

It was obvious the Murray's weren't home. This time their car had gone as well. I walked right in and into the lounge room.

'Right, how come you can talk.' I demanded.

The kettle made a squeaking sound. 'You again! I'm not allowed to talk to you, I got in trouble.' It whined.

'I need you to tell me what's going on though!' Lark cried. 'How come you can talk, and how come chocolate frogs can move?'

'Not speaking to you!' The kettle said.

'Talk to me!'

'No!'

'TALK to me!'

'NO!'

'TALK TO ME!'

'NOOOO!'

'You're talking to me already.' Lark said smugly. The kettle didn't reply.

Lark sighed and sat down on the carpet. 'Please? No one will tell me anything.'

'George and Martha are due home any minute now.' The kettle said.

'But-!'

'And they'll probably erase your memory if they find you here again!'

I stared at it. Erase my memory?

I sighed. 'Fine. I'll go. But I'll be back, okay?'

I wondered home a while later. I hesitated before going in the front door. Did I really want to go back into that house?

'Lark?' Dad's voice called as I closed the door. 'We're in the lounge room.'

I tiptoed in. The lights had been replaced.

'What's going on?' I asked, noting that the whole family had been arranged. Mum and Dad sat on one of the sofas, and Luke and Harry on the other. 'What was that… that thing? And why does the Murray's kettle talk?'

Dad exchanged a look with Mum, who exchanged one with Harry, Luke, and then back to Dad.

'There's, there's something we haven't told you, honey.' Mum said slowly. 'You see, you're a witch.'


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three: Friends

* * *

**

'Hey, how come the ticket says "nine and three quarters"? There _is_ no platform 9 and ¾.' I said, staring at the ticket.

Harry, Luke and I were standing in the middle of King's Cross station. This year, I was going _with_ them to their boarding school, instead of to mine. For my whole life I'd been told that they went to an all boy's boarding school, and now I find out they actually went to a co-ed _wizarding_ boarding school.

'Harry? Luke?' I said, looking up when they didn't answer.

They were gone. I was completely alone, standing on platform nine.

I bared my teeth. I could just go home, they could never make me go after all. It had been hard enough to get me in the car that morning.

There was no way I was a witch. Mum and Dad and Luke and Harry explained that that is why the light bulbs always shatter. That's how the kettle spoke. That's how come I'd never been to my parents work.

Because my whole family was full of wizards.

They explained that Mum and Dad just wanted _one_ "normal" child, so they decided when I was born they'd raise me as a "muggle". Muggles were what they called the non-magic folk, of course. The Murray's are wizards too, apparently.

That's why the chocolate frog moved, that's why sometimes there's just one raincloud above our house on an otherwise sunny day, that's why lots of my primary school friends suddenly moved away when they turned eleven.

When my parents got my letter for Hogwarts, they replied – they _lied_ – and said they were going to home school me, and I would not be joining my brothers.

In _fact_, they just sent me to a normal school, and explained away all the light bulbs and glasses with a simple flick of their hands.

And! To make matters worse! To prove that magic was real, they started summoning things from all over the house, and I realized that when I thought they were sneezing, they were actually saying a _spell_. It's not "Ackioh", it's _Accio_, and it's a summoning spell.

I could feel my new wand in the pocket of my jumper.

'If you don't get a move on, you're going to miss that train.' A voice from my bag said.

'Shut up.' I hissed, as a passerby gave me a weird look.

'Fine, fine. But you're still going to miss it.'

I ripped open my bag and glared at the golden kettle inside it. Just yesterday I had snuck into the Murray's house again and snatched it. They'd changed the password, but the kettle forgot and let me in anyway.

'Do you know where the station is?' I hissed, aware I was receiving more strange looks.

'No.' The kettle said honestly. 'But you're going to miss it.'

I made a frustrated noise and did my bag back up. Then, I steered my trolley towards a wall to try and figure out what to do.

'Technically, the station should be right here.' I muttered, indicating the wall I was standing next to. Platforms nine and ten sat do either side of me, but all that was in between them was a wall.

Suddenly, I noticed a family glancing at me and the trunk on my trolley, and then at the wall. There were six or seven or them, and they were all redheads.

One of them came over to me, a girl a bit younger than me.

'Excuse me, are you lost?' She said. I noticed her eyes kept flicking back to her family nervously.

'Um, yeah. My brothers snuck off and left me here.' I said.

I felt a strange rush of wind, and this time I followed her eyes back to her family. To my surprise, about half of them had disappeared.

'Oh um, where are you trying to go to?' The girl said quickly, dragging my attention away. I realized she was trying to distract me from something.

'Um, actually, I think my brothers are playing a joke on me.' I said, stepping back and making to grab my trolley. 'You see, I'm trying to get to platform nine and three qu-'

At that moment, I'd accidentally stepped into the path of another trolley, and I was propelled headfirst into the wall. But, when I should have hit it, I instead slid straight through, and landed roughly on the floor again.

'Wh-what the,' I gasped.

'Oh, blimey, I'm sorry,' a voice said, and I looked up to see the owner of the trolley.

He had red hair, like the rest of his family, and he was staring at me like I was some hideous monster.

'Oh my god, I dragged a muggle into the station.'

'Muggle? Station?' I murmured, confused. I stared around and the first thing I saw was a sign saying "platform 9 ¾".

'Oh! I made it!' I cried happily, looking at the wall we'd come through.

Suddenly the girl and what must have been her parents came through the wall too, with my trolley, and looked at the boy who'd pushed me through. He had turned a funny shade of green and was staring at me.

'Don't worry Ron,' the girl said 'She's a witch.'

Ron, the boy, stopped staring and blinked a few times. 'A witch? Then how come she was just standing there?'

'Is this your first time on the train, dear?' The mother asked kindly. I nodded slowly.

'Um, yes. First. Time. On the train. Is that a brick wall?' I asked bluntly.

They all exchanged a look. 'Are you, muggleborn?' The father asked, his tone slightly excited.

'Sort of.' I muttered. 'But not really.'

'You're not in first year though.' The girl said. 'I'm Ginny, by the way.'

'I'm Molly. This is Arthur, and this is Ron.' The woman said, indicating her husband and then her son.

'Oh, hi, I'm Lark Fissure.' I said slowly.

There was a loud whistle and a call for boarding, and I jumped and stared at the train. Did I really want to go in there? I knew if I did, I'd only find more brick-wall-doorways and families of red-heads.

'You're going to miss it!' the kettle sang.

'Oh, dear.' Molly said. 'Okay, Ron, you look after Lark, she looks just like Harry on his first day. Just keep an eye on her, so she doesn't get lost.' She began to push us towards the train.

'Good luck Lark,' Arthur called. Ginny was also running onto the train.

'Um, bye, nice to meet you.' I called as Molly helped me onto the train. 'And uh, thanks for your help.'

Then the doors closed and the train started moving.

Ron was standing next to me, waving out at them. Then he stopped and looked at me.

'Um, we better find a carriage then.' He explained.

We began to squeeze our way down the train, searching for an empty carriage. Or so I thought, until we passed several.

'Um, where are we going?' I asked.

'Looking for my friends.' Ron replied. 'We'll sit with them.'

As we were going past a carriage though, the door opened and someone came out, accidentally bumping me. I fell into the carriage and landed on my knees.

'Owww,' I groaned standing up. I noticed then that there were other people in the carriage, and none of them looked too pleased to see me.

'Would you kindly leave?' One of them said. He had light blonde hair and blue/grey eyes, and a glare that would freeze water.

Damn me and my "wrong place at the wrong time" habits.

'I'm uh, I'm um. I'm sorry.' I babbled, trying to articulate something that made sense. 'I was ah, I was pushed-'

Before I could say anything else though, a hand seized the back of my collar and pulled me out of the compartment.

'Excuse me.' Ron said, tugging me down the corridor. 'I found Harry, but _you_'d disappeared. You don't want to talk to Malfoy, he's nothing but trouble.'

'I fell in.' I explained. 'Someone pushed me. Why shouldn't I talk to Malfoy?' I guessed that Malfoy was the name of the blonde boy.

Ron gave me a light shove into a new compartment, and I stepped in to find two people were already in it.

'Here she is.' Ron said brightly. 'Lark, these are my friends Hermione and Harry.'

'Hi.' I said shyly.

'Hello!' the girl said, jumping up and giving Ron a hug before turning to me. 'I'm Hermione Granger, are you a transfer student?'

'Um, sort of.' I said nervously. How exactly did I explain my predicament?

'Hi.' Harry said. 'I'm Harry Potter.'

'Hello. My brother's called Harry.' I said to him. He seemed a little surprised and I flushed.

'Um, that is, to say, I was just,' I babbled. Ron snorted and sat down.

'Chill, Lark. But tell me, do you really not know who he is?' He said. I started and stared at him.

'Know who who is?'

'Harry Potter.' Hermione supplied.

'That's him.' I said pointing at Harry, confused.

Harry grinned all of a sudden. 'Are you muggleborn?' He asked.

'Only until recently.' I muttered. 'I think both my parents are wizards.'

'You think?' Hermione asked. 'Are you adopted?'

'I can only hope.'

They were giving me odd looks, and I realized I probably needed to explain a bit better.

'Well, I only found out about wizards about a month ago.' I explained hesitantly. 'My family… are all wizards, including me, but no one told me until I sort of accidentally found out.'

'No one told you?' Harry said incredulously.

'How could you not notice something like the fact that your family are_ wizards_.' Ron said irritably.

'Um, well. We all went to boarding schools, so I didn't see them much. And, I guess… I never really thought about it.' I said, flushing brightly. 'I mean, it's not like that was an obvious conclusion to come to, or anything.'

Gradually the questioning stopped, and the others introduced themselves in more detail. Apparently, Hermione was really smart, and if I needed help with homework I could always copy hers (but, Ron advised me it was best to not tell her you were doing it). Harry was famous, and he showed me the awesome scar on his forehead, but didn't seem to want to talk about it much. Hermione and Ron said something about his parents and the Dark Lord or something, but I didn't really get it. Must be an old politician, or something.

'And _I_,' Ron said grandly. 'Once wrestled a troll, and saved these two guys arses. In _first year_, mind you.'

'A… a troll?' I queried. 'As in, "who's that trip-trop-trapping over my bridge"?'

Harry laughed and shook his head. 'Um, no. Not that kind. Their about, fifteen foot high, and um, they carry around clubs and that.'

I gaped at Ron. 'And you defeated it?? Did you use a spell? Um, I only know one spell. Ah, Atchu. Or something.'

'Atchu?' Hermione said. 'I've never heard of that one. What does it do?'

'I'm not sure if that's how you say it.' I said frowning. 'It sounds like a sneeze. And summons stuff.'

'Accio..?' Harry asked. I nodded.

'That's it.'

'You don't "know" the spell, stupid. You just know the word.' The kettle said from my backpack.

The three others stared at my bag in surprise. I blushed and kicked it into a corner.

'Ahem. Yes.' I coughed.

'Is there a person in your bag?' Ron asked stupidly.

'Did you charm something to talk to you?' Hermione said excitedly.

'Do you have a.. parrot, as your pet?' Harry asked incredulously.

'Um, actually, it's just… a kettle…' I said, pulling it out of my bag.

'What do you mean "_just a kettle_"??' It demanded.

'It's sort of what got me into this whole mess.' I explained sheepishly.

'A… kettle…' Ron said. Harry started laughing, and even Hermione had to hide a smile.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Hello again. Chapter three now.. I have up to chapter nine typed up (though nine's not quite finished yet).

Not that anyone really cares. I wonder how people get lots of readers? It's a mystery.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four: Sorting Out My New Life

* * *

**

Hogwarts was a shock. It was huge. Monstrous. Gigantous. I couldn't stop staring as I was led through the front doors.

I was separated to sit with the first years. Hermione said something about sorting. I vaguely remembered Luke saying something about it, but couldn't remember what it was. I could see Harry and Luke sitting at the same table as my new-found friends, Harry, Hermione and Ron. I gave a little wave and they waved back.

An old man stood up at the front of the assembled student body. Front his position at the table, I guessed he was the principal. He gave a small speech about a new student coming in at fourth year. There was a rippled murmur that travelled through the crowd, and as people turned to look at me I realized it was _me_ the old man was talking about.

What had Harry and Luke told me the principal's name was? Except, here it was called a headmaster. Dumby? Something like that.

Suddenly, a hat was placed on a stool, and as the hall watched it began to sing a song. I listened closely as it outlined the "houses" we would be sorted into.

Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Brave, sly, smart, and kind. I had no idea where I'd be placed.

'Fissure, Lark.'

I stood as my name was called. Everyone's eyes followed me to the stool – which was _way_ too small – and I sat nervously, and placed the hat on my head.

'You're like my kettle.' I told it as it mumbled to itself.

'Like your..? Kettle. Ah. I see.' It said. 'Have you got a preference for what house you'd like to be in?'

'Um, no?' I said worriedly. 'Isn't that your job?'

The hat gave a little chuckle. 'Yes. I suppose it is.'

It seemed to be thinking, and I grew nervous. What happened if it couldn't place me? Would I be sent home? Maybe that wouldn't be so bad… But then again…

'Well, you aren't a Hufflepuff.' The hat said suddenly. I huffed.

'Why not? I'm nice enough.'

'You aren't Hufflepuff nice though. I don't think you're quite Slytherin material, though you are a pure blood…'

'Pure blood?' I asked, but the hat did not seem to want to be interrupted.

'So, it comes down to whether you're brave or smart.' He concluded. 'And, I've made my decision.'

I held my breath and waited.

'Gryffindor!' The hat yelled to the audience.

The hat was lifted off my head, and I was directed to the table where my brothers and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting at. I grinned stupidly. If they were all there, it couldn't exactly be a bad house. And Gryffindor was the brave house, so it wasn't like an insult to be put there.

I was greeted with many a pat on the back and a cheer, and then the headmaster (who, Hermione informed me, was called Dumbledore) made a speech, and suddenly all the plates were filled with food.

After dinner, we were sent up to our rooms. We were halfway up a staircase when it suddenly started moving. I screamed loudly and clutched at the banister, terrified of falling off.

When nothing happened, and people continued on past be as thought nothing was happening, I opened my eyes. Apart from a few strange looks I was getting, people didn't seem to think anything was out of the ordinary.

'They always do that.' Hermione explained. 'You um, get used to it. Eventually.'

I started to inch my way up the stairs, clutching the banister tightly.

The common room was large and warm, with red and gold everywhere. I grinned and took the kettle out of my bag.

'You fit in here.' I told it.

'Did you forget I have no eyes?' The kettle said dryly.

'Lark, come up this way.' Hermione said. I followed her up the stairs, noticing Ron and Harry went up a different set.

'Where are they..?' I began asking.

'Boys dorms.' Hermione said, leading me to a door. 'I believe there'll be a bed for you in here…' She opened the door and led me in.

'Is this one yours?' She asked, pointing to a trunk at the end of a bed. I nodded happily and put the kettle and my backpack down next to it.

'Yes! It is! How did it get up here so quickly? I haven't seen it since I got on the train- hang on, I don't even remember putting it _on_ the train!'

Hermione gave a small laugh and shrugged. 'Yeah, brilliant, stuff like that.'

She started towards the door, and then seemed to remember me all of a sudden. 'Oh, I'm going down to talk to the boys, would you like to come?' She asked. I looked around the room and then shook my head.

'No thanks, I'll get settled here, I think.'

She smiled and nodded before disappearing. I sighed and sunk onto "my" bed.

Everything was so weird.

'You better put me on a pedestal, or something.' Kettle said suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

'I think you're fine where you are. On my trunk.' I snapped at it. 'Unless you want to go _in_ my trunk.'

'Anywhere's better than your smelly backpack.' It grumped.

'You can't smell anything.' I pointed out. It huffed.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Bit of a short chapter… I'm no good at writing other peoples characters.


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five: Slytherin**

Our first class the next day was potions. After a large and exciting breakfast, I followed Hermione and Harry and Ron to the "dungeons".

I supposed they might be a little sick of me tagging along behind them all the time, but they were the people I knew best in this crazy mixed up world. Well, other than my brothers. But now I wasn't sure how well I knew them. I mean, keeping as big as secret as magic from me… that was pretty mind numbing.

'There aren't actually dungeons here, are there?' I asked nervously as we went down yet another set of stairs. It was getting darker and spookier now. Was torture a legal wizarding class..?

'Um, they used to be dungeons.' Harry said. 'But… they're just classrooms now. Mostly. I think.'

'Of course they aren't dungeons still, Harry.' Hermione said crossly. 'Do you think Dumbledore would want dungeons?' She turned to me. 'They're just called that, Lark. They aren't actually.'

Ron pulled a face and Hermione slapped his shoulder lightly.

'Oh no,' Harry groaned suddenly. 'Potions with Slytherins, _again_.'

I looked ahead of us, to see quite a few green and black robed students filing into the classroom. I recognized the blonde boy from the compartment I'd fallen into. He shot me a nasty glare before stalking into the classroom.

'Hey! What'd I do?' I muttered. Ron snorted.

'Not you. Us. He hates us.'

'Why?' I asked incredulously.

'Because he's a maggot-' Ron whispered before a shadow fell over us.

'Potter, Weasley, Granger.' A cold voice said. 'Wouldn't want to be late, to your first class, would you?'

I turned and looked up to see a greasy haired man looming over us. His black eyes rested on mine, and I stared back feeling slightly ill.

'Well well, Miss Fissure. How lovely it is to have you in my class also. I'm sure you'll be just as good a student as the rest of my Gryffindors are.' He said dryly. I got the feeling he might be being sarcastic.

'Oh well, I'll try my best. Um. Sir.' I said awkwardly. He looked at me strangely, down his long hooked nose, before turning and sweeping into the classroom.

'That's Snape.' Harry explained. 'The worst teacher ever. You better watch out for him, he will go out of his way just to take points from Gryffindor and give you extra homework.'

I groaned. Teachers usually picked on me, and this one seemed to have a grudge on my house.

We entered, filing towards a group of four desks. I noticed that the Gryffindors sat on one side and the Slytherins sat on the other.

As I went to my desk, I tripped over something hard and foot-like. I sprawled on the floor, creating a large amount of noise.

Sniggers and giggles filled the classroom as I stood up, face flushed bright red. As I took my seat, I glanced back to see who had tripped me.

The boy that Ron called Malfoy, the one who I interrupted on the train, sneered at me. I was surprised, I didn't know people could hate others so readily. This couldn't be just because I fell into his carriage, could it? Or was it because I hung out with his enemies?

I narrowed my eyes. There was no doubt about it. He had tripped me.

I stuck my tongue out at him, and he looked genuinely shocked. Must be a "muggle" thing to do, I realized.

The class was a disaster. Snape constantly picked me to answer questions that I had _no idea_ how to answer. I mean, what the _hell_ was wolfsbane??

I partnered up with Hermione, so it wasn't quite so bad. She helped me along.

'Excuse me Mr. Snape,' I said suddenly. 'We're finished.'

Hermione turned white. Turns out that, you don't call the teachers here mister and missus. Unless you want devil eyes. The classroom snickered at me and I flushed. I was out of my depth.

'Miss Fissure,' Snape said icily. 'You will refer to me as _Professor_ Snape, please, and I will come and look at your meager potion when _I'm_ ready, not when _you_ are.'

I nodded and sat down again, ready to start bashing my head against the desk in frustration. It was such a weird world that I'd come to.

'And by the way, that's ten points from Gryffindor for your impertinence.' Snape added.

The Gryffindor side of the classroom groaned, and I was terrified they were all mad at me. But they were all glaring at Snape's back, and a couple smiled at me.

Still. Worst. Day. Ever.

Back in my world, I was pretty smart. But this was like being thrown back into primary school, except everyone else knew what was going on, and they were all speaking Spanish instead of English.

'Don't worry about it.' Ron said, as I apologized after class for the fifty-fifth time for losing points. 'Snape just hates Gryffindors.'

After the initial taking of points, he'd then taken points from Harry and Ron and a couple of other Gryffindor pairs. He never took points from the Slytherins, and never praised Gryffindors.

'It's not fair though.' Harry said through gritted teeth. 'He's so… bias!'

Hermione patted his shoulder. 'Come on Harry, it's not like we weren't expecting it.' She said comfortingly.

'You know what? We should release Peeve's into his office.' Ron said evilly, as loud noises started coming from the corridor ahead.

'Peeves..?' I started to ask, but then my eyes met a sigh I'd never thought I'd see.

A man was floating near the ceiling, hurling furniture at passing students. He cackled evilly as they dived for cover. The strangest thing – even though it was strange overall – was that he was _blue_.

'Oh my…' I sighed.

'_That_ is Peeves.' Harry said, grinning.

At that moment, Peeves started throwing furniture in our direction, and we scattered to avoid a nightstand.

I cried out, landing on the ground.

We started running down the hall, and he started following us. I yelled and screamed, but somehow found myself enjoying it. I mean, it's not every day a floating see-through blue man chases you down the hall with a dresser.

Suddenly I ran into something solid. I bounced backwards and would have fallen over except it caught my hand.

'What the-' Malfoy exclaimed. Then he saw Peeves.

'Run!' I yelled gleefully, turning Malfoy around and shoving him down the hall. In my excitement I had completely forgotten that the guy hated me.

'What are you- Let me- Stop it!' Malfoy squealed, as I tugged him by his arm. The dresser exploded right behind us, and he stopped complaining and ran faster. I laughed madly.

'You're _insane_!' He panted. I grinned and tried to turn a corner after Harry and drag Malfoy with me, but he had other ideas, and instead yanked me in the other direction, and into a classroom.

He slammed the door behind us, and locked it with some spell. As Peeves continued to rampage outside, we caught our breath.

'Whoo,' I panted. 'Does stuff like this happen every day?'

Malfoy just glared at me. 'Why the hell did you do that?'

'Do what?' I asked, confused. I was starting to remember. Something about his glare made me feel disliked. Strongly so.

'Drag me along.'

Why _did_ I drag him along? I wondered. I had no idea.

'I dunno. You were in my way.' I shrugged.

The noise had died down outside, and Malfoy stopped glaring at me and glanced at the door. Then he continued glaring at me and sidled over to the door.

He unlocked it and opened it, and made to leave.

'Hang on,' I said suddenly. 'Aren't you going to thank me?'

He stared at me like I was something unpleasant he'd found on his shoe. 'Thank you?? What for, for dragging me down the hall like an insane, an insane, an insane _thing_??' He cried.

I huffed and glared at him. 'No. It doesn't matter. Go away.'

I sat on one of the desks with my back to him. He didn't leave right away, and I could feel him staring at the back of my head.

As soon as the door closed again I sighed and buried my face in my hands. Now that the adrenalin had gone, I was just left with the sick feeling of not-belonging.

* * *

Author's Notes:

I know it isn't all strictly correct, I apologize for that (especially to Miranda, it upsets her quite a bit).


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six: The Green and Silver Wand Snatcher**

The rest of the classes were not as bad, but they were still disastrous. Everywhere I went I made messes and mistakes. No matter what I did, I couldn't get the hang of this "magic" thing.

Oh, I definitely had magic. Transfiguration and Charms proved that. I mean, what kind of non magical person can blow up a snail, or turn a feather into a high-powered missile?

By dinnertime, I was miserable. Unfortunately, everyone wanted to know all about me. How come I came to school so late? How old was I really? Was I half-squib?

I decided that explaining what actually happened was too difficult (and strange) so I just told everyone that I'd been homeschooled.

'So how come you suck at magic so much?' A voice said from behind me. The Gryffindors near me and I all swiveled on our chairs to face Malfoy and the two boys he was usually with.

'I, I,' I babbled angrily. 'I do not!'

'Come on then.' He goaded. 'Do a spell. Summon something. Something _easy_.'

His smug expression was what encouraged me to do it, even with Hermione whispering in my ear "don't do it! Don't give him the satisfaction!".

'Alright.' I said angrily. I remembered the word, it shouldn't be that hard. I raised my wand and pointed it at a cup only two feet away.

'Accio, cup!' I said, just as my brothers and parents did.

My wand gave a little fizz and a cough, but nothing happened. Malfoy snorted and snatched the wand off me.

'Well, it's not the _wand_ that's defective…' He concluded after a moments study. 'So that means it's the witch..!'

'Give it here Malfoy.' I snapped, blushing bright red. I'd just embarrassed myself in front of the entire school. I didn't think I could handle any more on my first day.

'Alright.' He said, surprisingly easily, handing me my wand. Then he spun on his heel and stalked away.

Once everyone was asleep, I snuck back down to the common room with my wand. I pointed it at a cushion.

'Accio, cushion.' I commanded, but this time not even sparks erupted from my wand.

'I do believe that's just a stick.' Kettle said suddenly. I glared at him. 'What, you were the one that brought me down here.' He grumped.

'Accio, stupid Kettle.' I muttered, flicking the wand at it. Still nothing.

'I really do think it actually is just a stick.' The kettle said.

I gave a cry of frustration and threw the "wand" across the room. 'Malfoy stole my freaking wand!' I crowed angrily. Then I marched towards the portrait hole, ready to beat him up.

'Ahem.' The kettle said. 'It's after hours. You'll get caught. Besides-'

'Shut up!' I snapped, snatching him off the table. 'And you're coming with me.'

I tip-toed down the halls. We got to the fourth floor when I suddenly realized the fatal flaw.

'You don't know where he is.' The kettle sighed irritably. 'Nor where the Slytherin house is, _or_, for that matter, how to get back to the Gryffindor house.'

'I do so.' I snapped, but I was nervous. I'd never gone there without someone else before. I wasn't even sure I knew what the password was.

At that moment we heard voices, and I ducked behind a suit of armor. If only it could have been Malfoy.

It wasn't.

It was Harry, Ron and Hermione.

'Phew, it's safe.' Kettle said.

'Who's there?' Ron demanded.

'Um, it's me.' I said shakily, coming out from behind the armor. 'Sorry.'

They stared at me, bewildered.

'Lark? What're you doing here?' Harry asked.

'How did you get out past me?' I asked Hermione. I hadn't heard her leave the whole time I'd been in bed waiting for everyone to fall asleep. She flushed and waved a hand.

'Oh, I um. I have my ways.' She said.

'What are you doing here?' Harry asked again. I shrugged. It all seemed stupid now.

'I was looking for Malfoy,' I started.

'Malfoy!' Ron spluttered. 'Don't tell me you, you like that, that, that, that blast ended skrewt!'

I shook my head quickly. 'Oh, no. It's nothing to do with that. He stole my wand.' I indicated the piece of wood I was holding.

They stared at it. 'You mean… at dinner, when he…' Hermione asked.

'Bastard.' Ron muttered.

'But, then I realized I didn't know where Slytherin is,' I said, embarrassed. 'And then I realized I didn't know how to get back to Gryffindor.'

'She's too impulsive.' Kettle grumbled. 'Which reminds me, you never gave me a Cherry Ripe.'

'Is that all you can do, grumble?' I snapped.

'Shh,' Hermione said suddenly. There were more voices coming.

We all huddled behind armor, me hissing at the kettle to keep quiet. Malfoy and his goons walked out of the corridor.

'Why that…' I whispered angrily. Hermione was motioning for me to keep still. I nodded reluctantly. I _might_ be able to beat up Malfoy, but there was no way I could even harm the two tanks he hung with.

Suddenly, the kettle started to rattle in my arms. Malfoy and the goons' heads snapped around to look in my direction.

'Who's there?' Malfoy demanded in a half whisper. I squeezed my eyes shut, and stepped out.

'Where's my wand, Malfoy.' I grumped, glaring at the kettle and then at him.

He seemed surprised to see me, and strangely relieved. I guessed I could have actually been someone dangerous to him.

'Oh, Fissure. It's you.' He said, putting away his wand. 'Your wand? I don't have it.' He gave me a sly grin.

I marched over to him and stuck my face close to him.

'My _wand_ Malfoy!' I cried. He looked frightened for a moment, but then one of the big guys grabbed my arm and yanked me away from him.

'Hey! Let me go-' I started, wriggling.

'Would you shush!' Malfoy whispered, looking around nervously. 'If we're caught out-'

At that moment, Ron accidentally knocked over a suit of armor. That sent the kettle rattling again (as well as the clattering armor) and all of a sudden there were footsteps from every direction.

'Weasley?' Malfoy gaped, his face the very picture of confusion and outrage. 'Potter?! Granger?!'

'Evening Malfoy.' Harry said with a grin at me and a scowl at Ron.

'By Merlin!' Snape growled, appearing at the mouth of a corridor. 'What on Earth are you all doing up? And in the middle of a room, making so much _noise_?'

'Potter! Weasley! _Granger_!?' McGonagall (Our Houses Head, apparently) cried, appearing too. 'By Merlin, what, off to bed!' She cried, and then noticed me. '_Fissure_!? Oh, don't tell me you've been dragged into this silly, _group_.' She barely glanced at Malfoy.

'Um, I'm sorry.' I said apologetically. McGonagall just raised her hands in exasperation.

'You children.' She muttered.

* * *

Author's Note: 

This chapter I dedicate to Miranda and her crusade against double question marks.

Enjoy nn


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven: Detention**

Harry, Hermione, Ron and I had to serve detention with McGonagall. Malfoy and his goons (whose names, I found out, where Crabbe and Goyle) had to serve detention with Snape.

'I'm sorry,' I apologized again to the other three. Harry just grinned at me and shook his head.

'Don't worry about it Lark, we're always in detention,' He said while Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement .

'Yeah," Hermione continued, glaring at the two boys in the room. 'We were out after hours anyway.' It made me feel slightly better.

We were dusting the trophies in the Trophy Room. The dust was filling up my nose and my lungs, and we were all sneezing like crazy.

'Besides, dusting is not so bad,' Hermione said; before erupting with a large sneeze.

'Yeah, if you're a woman maybe,' Ron grumped. Hermione stepped on his hand.

I sighed and went back to dusting. Ten, maybe twenty minutes went by. I began to get bored with dusting, and I noticed that no one was actually watching us.

I quietly spun my towel until it wound around itself. Then, I grabbed both ends and snuck up behind Harry.

With a flick of my wrist, I cracked the towel against his leg. He let out a cry and jumped up, staring at me in horror. I grinned and flicked him again. I wasn't doing it to hard because I didn't want to hurt him.

Suddenly I felt a quick pain on my thigh, I squealed and jumped around, to find Hermione, her face flushed pink and half-smiling.

'Got you!' she squeaked.

'Hermione?!' Ron said incredulously. She responded by turning and whipping him.

Eventually we were all running around and flicking each other. There were squeals of pain and surprise all around, and we generally forgot that we were supposed to be cleaning. We were so wrapped up in the game that we didn't notice the door open, and four people enter.

'Charming. Gryffindors,' a sarcastic voice said.

We froze, and turned slowly, to see Professor Snape standing in the doorway with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle standing directly behind him, smirking in triumph.

'Uh oh,' I murmured.

Thankfully, Snape didn't punish us further. Or maybe he did, in a different way.

'Alright, you will all serve your detentions in here together.' Snape said, giving the room a glance. 'And I'll be in to check on you, so no more… towel whipping,' he said distastefully.

Once he'd gone, we stood around staring at each other. Us Gryffindors glared at the Slytherins, who glared straight back.

'This is your fault,' Malfoy snapped at Harry. 'If you hadn't knocked over the armor-'

'It wasn't my fault,' Harry said angrily. 'Besides, it was Ron who knocked it over.'

Everyone's glare shifted to Ron, except mine. I continued glaring at Malfoy.

'It wasn't my fault!' Ron countered. 'It was Lark's fault, her stupid kettle is what made you notice us, and if you hadn't stopped then none of this would have happened.'

They glared at me again. I continued to glare straight back at Malfoy.

'And if you hadn't _stolen my wand_ I wouldn't have been out there looking for you anyway!'

Malfoy looked taken aback. 'You mean, you were only out there to look for me?'

I nodded grimly. To my surprise (and annoyance) he started laughing.

'And just how did you expect to find me?' He scoffed. I flushed bright red, and, quick as I could, stepped closer and flicked him with my dusting towel.

He screamed like a girl, and I laughed maniacally. 'You scream like a girl, Malfoy!' I jeered. He flushed as red as I was, except probably with anger. I don't know actually, he seemed pretty proud. Maybe he couldn't handle being teased by a girl? It might have been embarrassment.

He leapt at me with surprising agility and flicked me with his own towel, it surprised me that someone as uppity as him would know how to. I yelled and attacked him back, and before I knew it Harry, Hermione, Ron, Crabbe and Goyle had all joined the fray.

I guess all the squealing and yelling must have attracted attention, because the next thing we knew McGonagall _and_ Snape rushed in, and everyone froze.

The result was us all being locked in Snape's classroom with lines to copy out, under the direct scrutiny of Professor Snape himself.

As expected, it passed without interruption.

* * *

Author's Note:

Sorry about the long wait! I hope to be quicker to update now, as i was just waiting for a lazy-bones to finish up her edit.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight: Revenge for Revenge for Revenge**

So, school went by. Hermione became my sort-of-best-friend, and Harry and Ron became my sort-of-good-friends. I say sort of, because… well. I kind of felt they had this trio thing going, and I was like a fourth wheel on a tricycle.

Classes were not so good either. I'd gotten my wand back almost immediately after detention. As we were leaving Malfoy had just pressed it into my hand wordlessly.

I hadn't spoken to him since, having had nothing to say to him, but we quite often exchanged glares.

'Lark, you have to concentrate,' Hermione said nicely, but I could see she was starting to get frustrated.

'Right, I'm sorry, _Accio_!' I cried, frowning slightly and concentrating hard.

This time, the pillow flew right into my arms. It'd done this a few times now, and Hermione seemed pleased with my efforts.

'Right. Now, remember the other spell..?'

I nodded, eager to please. Hermione had been spending her spare time teaching me, and I didn't want to disappoint her.

'_Wingardium Leviosa_!' I cried, flicking my wrist perfectly. The pillow rose a few feet before I let it drop. Hermione beamed.

'And that time was only a little bit wobbly,' she said happily. 'I think you'll be just fine now.'

I nodded, pleased.

'Except, you still suck,' Kettle said from the table. I threw it a glare.

'Shut up,' I muttered. 'Why did I even bring you here?'

'Uh, I don't know. Because you're stupid. Now bring me chocolate!'

I'd found that the kettle tended to be less bad tempered if I put a chocolate frog in the lid every couple of days. It was the most peculiar thing, when I opened the lid there was just blackness inside. He (for I had decided it was a "he", since the voice was masculine) strongly advised me not to put my hand inside, and I happily obliged.

'What do you do all day when I'm not here?' I asked it as I carried it up to my room. Classes were starting soon.

'Oh, this and that, singing practice,' he said. I snorted.

'Singing? Yeah right.'

'No really! I have a fabulous voice.'

As I followed Hermione down to class, I tripped down a set of stairs. I would have skidded right down to the bottom and landed on my face, if I hadn't bumped into someone else who tried to steady me, failed, and tumbled down with me, causing to land on my ass instead.

'Oh, ouch, oh I'm so sorry,' I said quickly, looking to see who I'd attacked.

Crabbe was staring at me savagely. Both our bags had spilled everywhere, and loose sheets of paper fluttered everywhere.

I hurried to collect everything together, flushing as people sniggered quietly as they passed. As I straightened up, I noticed Crabbe finishing his retrieval too. Malfoy was standing at the top of the stairs, blatantly laughing at me. As in, pointing and cackling and guffawing, and basically acting like the great big git he was.

I raised my wand and whispered to myself, '_Wingardium Leviosa_!'

Malfoy's book bag suddenly floated off his shoulder and as he tried to grab it, it floated off the edge of the stairs, where it was abruptly dropped down the remaining flight of stairs.

'Hey! Why you, you silly witch!' Malfoy cried, racing past me to retrieve it. I caught up with Hermione who had been joined by Ron and Harry.

'Good one,' Ron snorted.

'That was very well done Lark,' Hermione said, and I noticed she was holding back a smile. 'That didn't wobble at all.'

Later at dinner, I was happily eating my soup when all of a sudden the book Hermione was reading floated up and then was dropped in my soup. Hermione let out a wail of panic and frantically grabbed the book and began throwing cleaning and drying spells at it. I stared at the soup splattered all over my clothes and turned in my seat to glare at the stupid blonde boy who was laughing at me.

'Stupid Malfoy!' I hissed. He smirked at me and winked. I levitated his plate onto his head.

Over the next few days, a small war started up between us, involving people around us. I'd get revenge for something he did, and he'd turn around and get revenge for that. He didn't seem to understand that this was his fault – and in no way mine – and that once I got revenge, he was supposed to stop.

I had come to hate potions as much as Harry, Ron and Hermione did. Snape included.

'I said wormswood _before_ ragwort, Fissure,' Snape said drily as Hermione and my potion turned an ugly shade of green. I flushed red as the Slytherins began to snigger.

'Sorry,' I muttered. Snape sighed.

'I think, what we need _here_, is a partner swap.' He said slowly. Hermione's eyes went wide and she looked at me fearfully.

I figured it couldn't be that bad. There were only two choices of partners, and neither would be all that bad. If he put me with a Gryffindor, I'd get a bad mark and keep making mistakes, but at least I'd have fun. All the Gryffindors were really nice I'd found, and easy to get along with.

_Or_, he could put me with a Slytherin. This was… not so good, but chances were I might get a better mark if I was paired with someone from Snape's house.

'Granger…' He said slowly, surveying the classroom. 'Ah. Granger, partner with Miss Parkinson over here… which means…'

My heart plummeted. He couldn't have. Surely he'd noticed our disagreements? Or maybe that was exactly the reason he'd chosen him.

'Fissure, you partner up with Mr. Malfoy.' He said, gesturing at the boy. I scowled heavily and crossed my arms over my chest.

'I'm terribly sorry to do this to you.' Snape said sarcastically to Malfoy, causing the brat to smirk at me.

I ground my teeth together.

'So, potions partners, eh?' Malfoy said as I moved my books to the desk he was seated at. I ground my teeth at him and he didn't say anything else.

'Pass me the cinnamon,' he said suddenly. I stared at him dumbly.

'The brown stuff,' he said impatiently, waving his hand at a brown powder only a few inches from his hand.

'_You_ get it,' I snapped. He looked surprised.

'No, _you_ get it, dearest potions partner,' he said. I sighed, but grudgingly obeyed. I could see Snape staring at us from across the room.

'How much?' I grumbled.

'Tea spoon,' he answered. I scooped it and held it up to him.

'Can I put it in the pot?' I asked, staring at the cauldron. Before I could do anything though, Malfoy had turned to me and suddenly blew onto the spoon forcibly. The brown powder exploded into my face, getting in my nose, mouth and eyes. I squealed and dropped the spoon, stumbling back.

I spluttered, and someone thumped me on the back to help me cough up the icky red powder. I took my hands away from my face, my eyes and nose streaming.

'Malfoy you jerk!' I cried, lashing out and kicking him in the back of the knee. He collapsed with a shout of surprise and spilled some substance on him. He squealed as the stuff sizzled and burned through his sleeve onto his arm.

'_What_ is going _on_,' Snape's voice hissed. He took one look at Malfoy's arm and my red and watery face, and sighed.

'To the hospital wing,' he snapped. 'And fifty points off both of you.'

'What!' Malfoy cried, holding his singed arm. I noticed it wasn't burning anymore. 'But she's the one who-'

'Fifty, Points,' Snape said forcefully. 'Don't make me make it more.'

* * *

Author's Note:

A tad cliqued, but... :D Lots of fun ♥


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine: Kettle Trouble**

We left the classroom with instructions not to return. Malfoy hugged his wounded arm to himself and shot me glares every now and then. I sniffed and repeatedly wiped my eyes and nose on my sleeve.

'Why the hell did you kick me,' Malfoy muttered suddenly. I noticed he was limping and let out a laugh.

'Gee, not sure, why'd you throw cinnamon in my face?' I said sarcastically. He sniffed.

'It's not cinnamon for god's sake, I thought that would have been obvious by now,' he gestured at my running eyes and nose. The powder also dusted my face and hair. He smirked.

'Are you sure you're a pure blood? You sure don't know much about wizards for one who's been brought up by them. And your wand skills are atrocious. Was your mum not a very good teacher, then?'

I looked at him like he was insane. 'My mum never taught me. Who told you that? And what's all this fuss about being a pure blood, other people have mentioned that as well.'

'A pure blood is someone whose parents have three generations of wizards behind both of them, like mine. A halfblood only has one parent who has that. A _Mudblood_,' he explained, his voice filled with loathing when he said the last part, 'is a wizard who's bloodline does _not_ have three generations of wizards behind _either_ parent. Sometimes they have only muggles.'

'Just muggles?' I asked, confused. 'How do they become wizards then?'

He shrugged, 'your friend Granger's one of them, dirty Mudblood.' I scowled and lashed out at his sore leg, catching him behind the knee again.

'She's better than you are, for all your pure heritage. At least she's pure of heart,' I snapped, walking faster. He limped to catch up.

'What does it matter to be pure or heart? That's not going to get you a job, or get you anywhere in life. But forget all of that, what do you mean your mum never taught you? Did your dad do it then?'

'No,' I scoffed. 'What makes you think either of my parents taught me?'

'Well, you told everyone you were home schooled. I guess that kind of gave me an inkling,' he said sarcastically. 'So what happened? Did you have a paid tutor?'

'Oh, right.' I said, embarrassed. I was as bad a liar as my father was. 'Um, yeah. Something like that.' I muttered.

'You must have a poor family,' he mused, 'to not be able to afford a good tutor.'

I walked faster. He was such a jerk.

'Where are you going?' he called after me. 'The hospital wing is _this way_.'

I stormed out of the hospital wing. It didn't take me long to find Gryffindor this time, I was starting to learn my way around.

'Bell flower,' I snapped at the portrait, and she swung open muttering something about bad tempered children.

I stomped up to my room and threw my book bag at the wall. It hadn't taken long for the nurse to fix me, just a quick drink of some vile tasting liquid and she'd sent me along. Malfoy was going to take longer though, something about growing his skin back. The thought of his pain brought an insane smile to my face.

'So, how's your singing going?' I asked Kettle, flopping onto my bed.

He was stubbornly silent.

'Come on,' I called. 'Sing me something. Anything.'

He didn't reply again. I frowned. Usually he made some sly or sarcastic comment as soon as I entered the room.

'Kettle?' I asked worriedly, sitting up. Did you have to feed magic kettles same as other pets? I gave him chocolate every now and then, but…

I crawled over to where he sat on my trunk. He looked the same as usual, and I nudged him a little.

'Kettle? You in there?' I asked softly.

He still didn't reply, and I lifted the lid. To my immense surprise, this time there was no darkness, just the normal inside of a kettle. I bit my lip worriedly. Had I killed the kettle? Was it _possible_ to kill a kettle?

I looked up and noticed a clock. I swore when I saw the time, I was late for transfiguration.

I placed Kettle back on the trunk slowly. Maybe when I came back he'd be there again…

I hoped it would be so.

All through classes I kept worrying about Kettle. Why had the kettle been empty? He hadn't said anything… perhaps someone had stuck their hand in while I was away?

Hermione noticed me discomfort, but assumed it had something to do with potions that morning.

'Don't worry about potions Lark,' she said, wordlessly pointing out a spelling mistake in my charms work. 'I don't mind being with Millicent. It's a pity about you and Malfoy though,' she said sympathetically.

I grunted and shrugged. I was worried that if Hermione found out about Kettle she'd tell me that it was because I'd taken him away from the peopled who'd spelled him or something.

As soon as class was over I rushed out, not waiting for her or either of the boys. I ran all the way up to the common room and into my dorm.

'Kettle?' I called softly. I was the only person in there.

'Yes?' Kettle said impatiently, to my relief. 'What is it?'

I breathed a sigh of happiness and swept into the room.

'What happened earlier?' I asked. 'I came in and spoke to you, and you didn't reply, and when I took off your lid you were completely _empty_.'

'You what?' The kettle asked shocked. 'You were here during the day?'

'Yes…' I said slowly.

'I um. I was sleeping, I'm sorry,' he said edgily.

'Sleeping?' I asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Yes. I was sleeping, I'm sorry,' he repeated.

I dropped the matter. It was stupid anyway, getting worked up over a talking kettle. But still, I was curious.

'Kettle…' I asked slowly. 'Your spell that makes you talk, will that ever wear off?'

'Not likely,' he chuckled. I looked at him for a long moment and shook my head. It was slightly strange.

I left the dorm room, still thinking about it. How had he been empty? The black mist had gone. Perhaps he leaked out during the day, and floated around the school as a black mist? Maybe he went and peeked on girls in the bathroom. Strangely enough, it seemed very possible.

I sighed and sunk into a chair in the common room as other students continued drifting in. I closed my eyes and lay back. My head hurt, I was exhausted.

'Hey Lark,' a voice said, and I opened my eyes. Lavender Brown hung above me, grinning.

'Oh, hi Lavender,' I said sitting up and giving her a smile. 'What's up?'

'Halloween is in two weeks,' she said, eyes glistening. 'Have you got a date yet?'

'A date?' I asked. I hadn't even been aware that it was October yet.

'For the dance! On Halloween, we're having a dance this year.'

'Oh,' I said and shrugged. 'I dunno yet.'

'Do you think Harry'd go with you?' Parvarti Patil said, joining the conversation and walking over. 'I mean, you guys are awful close and all.'

I wrinkled my nose, 'as friends, that's all. I guess we could go as friends.'

Lavender laughed, 'no way. You _have_ to go with a proper date!'

I shrugged. 'Uh, I guess there's no one here I like that much. Yet, at least.' I gave a nervous laugh. It was the truth. That wasn't to say there weren't any nice and/or pretty guys here, but I had been sort of caught up in all of this magic stuff that I hadn't really thought about it.

'Besides, lots of girls are gonna wanna go with Harry,' Parvarti said, her tone matter-of-fact. From the look in her eye I guessed she was one of those girls.

'Lark!' Hermione burst into the common room all of a sudden. 'Lark, I need your help!'

* * *

Author's Note: 

Yay for suspense! A bit cliqued, i know... but i like to think that what's coming isn't cliqued... though it might be. Oh, i dont mind that much i suppose. I write for enjoyment, not to be perfect.

I've been getting stuck on this lately, but i deleted chapter 13 and added to chapter 12 and now i am not stuck. So onwards!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten: A Fight**

'What's the matter?' I panted as Hermione dragged me down the hall.

'Ron and Malfoy, are, are fighting!' she squealed. 'And, and Harry wasn't there, and I didn't know what to do, and if I tell a teacher then-'

'Fighting?! Why on Earth are they-'

'Because Malfoy called me a _Mudblood_!' Hermione wailed.

We skidded into the hallway and I saw Malfoy and Ron standing with their wands pointed at each other. They were slowly circling each other, identical looks of hate on both their faces.

'Oh… for God's sake,' I muttered.

'Take it back, Malfoy!' Ron cried. Malfoy smirked.

'Take back what, Weasley? She _is_ a Mudblood. It's not _my _fault-'

'And it's not her fault either!' Ron yelled, his face red with rage. 'She didn't _ask_ to be muggle-born!'

'Ron, Ron just drop it please,' Hermione begged. He glanced at her and narrowed his eyes further.

'No Hermione, the git needs to learn his lesson,' he spat.

The exchange continued. Malfoy and Ron spitting insults at each other and Hermione interjecting every now and then to ask Ron to stop. After a minute of it, I was a little bit bored.

After she'd taught me the basic spells, Hermione had continued to teach me some other useful things. Such as, how to unlock doors and how to defend myself against an attacker.

I pulled out my wand, glad no one was taking any notice of me. It always took me a few moments to get myself together enough to cast the spell. I pointed my wand at Malfoy.

'Expelliarmus!' I cried, and Malfoy's wand flew out of his hand to clatter on the cobblestones near Hermione. She scooped it up, quick as a flash, and looked triumphantly at Malfoy. Malfoy, who was giving me death glares.

'It wasn't any of your business,' Ron muttered, shooting me a glare. As I'd guessed, he was too honorable to hex an unarmed wizard, even if it was Malfoy. Malfoy, on the other hand, would probably do it without hesitation.

Malfoy snatched his wand off Hermione and shoved it in his pocket before stalking away.

'You'll be sorry, Fissure!' he called back to us.

'Come on, Ron,' Hermione said fussily, ignoring Malfoy as she made sure Ron was okay. We started back to the common room, when suddenly Malfoy's voice yelled something from behind us. I felt something hit me in the back and splatter all over me, and I fell onto my face.

'Owww,' I groaned. 'Malfoy you- you COWARD!' I screamed over my shoulder as his laughter receded down the corridor. Hermione helped me up, and I realized I was covered in a sticky black substance.

'Come on,' she said softly. 'We'll get this washed out for you.'

--

Unfortunately, where the gunk had stuck to my clothes and hair, it was being stubbornly difficult to remove. Hermione and I sat in the bathroom, me scrubbing my blazer and her scrubbing my hair.

'It's no use, it's stuck fast in your hair,' Hermione cried. 'I give up!'

'It's not coming out of my blazer either,' I groaned. 'At least it's the worst of the two. This one's a hand-me-down from Harry. Luke's is slightly newer.'

'Cover your eyes,' Hermione said before rinsing my hair.

'I guess we'll have to cut it out,' I said, looking at the locks of hair that were caked in the hard black stuff. It had solidified before we'd even got up to the common room.

Hermione's eyes widened. 'But, I'm absolutely no good at cutting hair,' she squealed. 'Not even with magic.'

At that moment Lavender Brown and Parvarti Patil walked in. They only had to hear the story once before Lavender readily offered to cut it herself.

'I always cut my friend's hair,' she explained. 'So I'm pretty practiced at it.

'Thank you so much!' I said, grinning nervously. 'Just, not too much shorter?'

I closed my eyes while they did it. I was terrified I'd come out looking like someone had haphazardly hacked at my hair. But when they told me to open my eyes, I was surprised.

Where my hair had been level at my shoulders, it was now just a bit below chin length, with a couple of layers where the goop had been higher up. It wasn't perfect, but considering how bad it had looked before, it was pretty good. I looked at Lavender with wide eyes as she put away the scissors.

'I'm sorry it's so short,' she said, 'but the black stuff was all through it. Do you like it?'

'Yes!' I squealed, hugging her. 'Thank you so much!'

She grinned and shrugged. 'No problem. But I think you're jumpers ruined.'

I surveyed the damage. The black stuff had seeped into the material, creating a hard plastic. I scowled at it.

'Malfoy's gonna pay,' I growled.

--

He paid well enough the next day at breakfast, without me having to do anything. My brother's had mysteriously learnt of the attack, and kept throwing charms at Malfoy's food and drink. One moment he'd be drinking pumpkin juice, when it would suddenly turn into glue. Or he'd be happily tucking into his Wizard O's, and suddenly they'd become iron bolts.

Of course, he knew who was doing it. And the whole Gryffindor table was laughing at him as he tried to eat. Slytherin was laughing at him too, as he kept crying out in distress when his breakfast changed.

I knew I'd pay for it later, what with our on-going war of revenge and all, but for the moment I didn't care.

What was more worrying, was I'd realized that if I came back during classes, Kettle was always empty. _And_, he'd become sort of strange.

I'd been lying on my bed doing homework. I'd finished my charms work and wondered out loud as to what other homework I had.

'Transfiguration, the essay on animagi,' Kettle said suddenly. I stared at him in shock.

'How did you know that?' I asked, having remembered that yes, we did indeed have that as homework.

Kettle was silent for a moment before speaking. 'Hermione, said something about it,' he said stiffly. 'Or someone else.'

I continued to stare at him in curiosity. He had been doing it a lot of late, as well as other strange things. The disappearing thing, knowing things that had been talked of when he wasn't around and he was even more snappy than usual, though sometimes oddly helpful.

'Are you sick, Kettle?' I asked, standing up and touching the metal. It was cool, as it should have been.

'I'm fine.' Kettle said, and something in his tone warned me to back off.

I sighed, feeling confused and went to finish my homework.

* * *

Well! I'm sorry it's been so long, I was just too lazy to edit and post it ; I've up to chapter fifteen written, though I had a MAJOR block on 13, (that's one of the reasons I was reluctant to post this) 

sigh I know there's lots of mistakes, and it's very cliqued, but I will be happy if just one person likes it.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven: Mystery Dates**

Excitement for the dance was growing as it was only a week away, and girls were beginning to stress over getting a cute date. A few fights had even broken out between girls who wanted a certain guy.

I was worrying over who I would take. I didn't want to turn up by myself, and yet I couldn't see myself asking anyone. There was no one who I liked especially, and no one who I liked as a friend who I thought would go with me.

Plus, I was worried about my kettle. He was still acting strange, and he grew oddly silent whenever someone entered the room. All in all, he was acting like a moody teenager. Which got me wondering, how "old" was he? Did spells _have_ ages? It was very confusing.

I was asking Hermione about it in the great hall at breakfast when Lavender stalked over and sat next to me, her face set in a grimace.

'What's the matter?' I asked. She sniffed slightly and looked like she was going to burst into tears.

'I had a fight with Pavarti,' she sniffed.

'About what?' Hermione asked tentatively. I put my arm around her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

'She, she wanted to ask Harry to the dance, but I'd already told her I wanted to. She said we could both do it, and I said that was stupid, and that, that I definitely liked him more anyway. And then she said,' Lavender's voice choked with a sob, 'she said there was _no way_ he'd ever go with me _anyway_, and I said, I said-'

'Hey, shhh,' I said, giving her a proper hug as she started to cry.

'But I said some horrible things, and I didn't mean them, but she said horrible things too, and I bet Harry wouldn't go with _either_ of us _anyway_,' she sobbed quietly.

The situation was not uncommon nowadays. The whole female population had gone slightly insane, arguing over dresses and boys.

When Hermione, Harry, Ron and I arrived at potions, everyone was whispering. Snape had yet to arrive, and when he did he hushed all sound and tried to start the lesson.

The whispering itself wasn't the strange thing, but there was an almost charged feeling in the classroom as students passed notes and fidgeted.

Eventually we found out what it was by asking Pavarti. It turns out Millicent Bullstrode and Pansy Parkinson, two Slytherins in our year, had gotten into a gigantous fight over who got to go to the dance with Malfoy. Apparently there had been wands drawn, and both girls had ended up in the hospital wing.

Talk was, the teachers had had just about enough and were thinking about calling off the whole dance.

Malfoy, of course, was sitting up the back of the class, his smug look smuggier than usual.

'Arse,' I whispered to myself.

'They're _insane_,' Hermione whispered to me. 'Who would fight to go to a dance with _Malfoy_ of all people?'

At the end of Potions, we were instructed to go to the great hall instead of our next class.

'Do you reckon they're going to call the ball off?' Lavender asked nervously as we sat at the Gryffindor table.

'Students!' McGonagall called for silence. 'There is a very grave issue we need to talk about today. Two students have been sent to the hospital wing, because of a fight over a _boy_.'

There were gasps around the hall from the students who didn't already know. The Slytherins started to snigger.

'There was a debate, as to whether the whole affair should be called off or not,' McGonagall continued, 'and we decided it wouldn't. But-'

Her words, however, were drowned out by a sudden cheer from the students. I found myself cheering as well. It would be my first wizarding occasion, after all. The roar rose to an ear-splitting level, until we were silenced with a loud _boom_.

'_But_,' McGonagall said firmly, once the noise had died down. 'Because this has happened a couple of times now, and we don't wish to have any more of it, the student's dates shall be chosen instead by a lot.'

There was a stunned silence for a few moments. And then a confused muttering broke out. How did they have the right to do this? How did this solve _anything_? What about the people who had already chosen dates?

'Students who wish to attend the dance will sign their name on the form up here.' Dumbledore said, suddenly standing up and gesturing to a pedestal with a long piece of parchment on it. 'If your name is not there, you will not be allowed in to the ball, nor will you be paired with anyone. You are all dismissed now, to go to your classes.'

The air in the school was almost mutinous now. Grumbling students wandered everywhere. Strangely enough, the mood didn't last. Soon, most people were looking forward to who their random partner would be.

I was extremely glad of it. This solved my problem of who to ask. I signed my name up after Hermione, and helped her encourage Ron and Harry to do so too.

'You know Dumbledore Harry, he's not going to put us with people we absolutely hate, is he?' Hermione soothed. 'So we'll most likely get put with our "perfect matches" or something!'

So, with that argument presented, Ron and Harry both reluctantly signed away their bachelorhood.

--

The rest of the week passed. The festive feeling increased, as did the excitement of the mystery dates. The morn of the 31st came, and at breakfast each student who had signed the petition had an envelope on their desk. It wasn't surprising to find that almost all of the students had signed up.

I stared at my envelope, unwilling to open it. Whose name was written inside it?

'Come on Lark,' Hermione said, 'let's open them together.'

I nodded nervously. What if the person was horrified at the thought of having to go with me? I shuddered.

'Alright. Let's do this,' I said determinedly. I could always just laugh about it with him anyway. It wasn't like I'd get someone super detestable.

'Oh no!' came a cry from across the table. I looked up to see Neville, his face white with fear. 'I got _Pansy Parkinson_!'

'Oh god,' I whispered, also turning white. 'But that means we can get partnered with _anyone_!' For some reason I'd assumed it'd still be someone from Gryffindor, or maybe from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but who on earth wanted to date a Slytherin?!

I stared at the envelope with a new dread.

'Just open it!' Ron demanded impatiently, watching Hermione and I. She looked at the envelope in his hands, confused.

'But Ron, you haven't opened yours-'

'Do it!' he snapped.

Slowly I broke the seal and pulled up the flap. I reached into the envelope and pulled out the slip of paper, turning it over so I could see the name. My heart stopped and my face fell. Of all the people to get!

'Oh no,' I breathed, 'Hermione. It's my worst nightmare.'

* * *

Author's Note:

Cliqued, yes? xD AGAIN! Or not. There is a twist :P

It's slightly annoying, 'cause these chapters already seem really 'old' and badly written to me, and it seems the story is taking the wrong turns and such. Oh well. We'll get there in the end :D

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed me, by the way! I really appreciate it, and the little messages make me feel more like writing. Usually I would have stopped the story by now, I have trouble finishing things I've started.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve: Bouilloire**

'I can't even _pronounce_ his name!' I wailed, for the fiftieth time. 'And I have_ no idea_ who he is or what house he's from. And no one seems to have heard of him in _any _of the houses!'

I was sitting on the end of my bed in my dance clothes holding the slip of cream parchment with my date's name.

"Bouilloire Garçon" was written in sparkling gold letters. I screwed my face up.

'Bowilloree? Booillwa? Bowilwa? I don't speak _French_!' I cried.

Hermione came in and sighed, taking the card off me. 'I already told you how to say it,' she said impatiently. 'Bwilwa. Besides, he won't mind all that much if you get the name wrong.'

'Yes he will. Oh, maybe he's here on transfer, and just arrived? Maybe that's why no one knows who he is,' I mused.

'No one knows him?' Hermione asked, curious. I nodded.

'I asked people from all houses, they said they'd never heard of him.'

She smiled slyly, 'someone from _every_ house? I bet I can name a house you didn't ask.'

I groaned. 'If I did ask someone from Slytherin they'd probably lie anyway. Besides, it's not fair of you to tease me. You got _Ron_.'

Hermione's cheeks turned pink and she smoothed her dress. 'Yes, well. I suppose it's good to be going with a friend.' I grinned at her cheekily.

'Does _he_ know you're "just friends"? Do _you_ know you're "just friends"?'

'Oh, be quiet,' she shushed. 'Are you ready?'

'Ready as I'll ever be,' I muttered. I turned to Kettle.

'Alright, we're going now,' I told him. He didn't reply. 'Kettle?' I called, moving over to him.

He was empty, but it was nighttime. He'd always come back at least by the end of classes, so where was he now? I hoped he hadn't gotten lost, or locked away.

'He'll be fine,' Hermione assured me. 'Now, let's go.'

--

I was wearing a black dress, to which I'd sewn little black plastic spiders. Hermione had shown me how to make spider web looking lace with magic, so I'd put some of that on too, as well as a black veil.

Many girls were dressed similarly, as it was a Halloween dance. There were peopled decked in orange, black, purple, green. All looking quite festive.

Ron's brothers, Fred and George, were dressed as pumpkins, and they looked like they were messing around with the punch.

'Ready?' Hermione said, smiling. She looked beautiful. I'd done her hair in a bun on the back of her head, and helped attach her veil with pins. Her dress was a dark purple with fine webs. My webs were sort of chunky in places, and not so finely made.

Harry and Ron met us out in the great hall. Ron's face was flushed red and he had a wobbly smile on his face as he took Hermione's arm. I grinned at Harry.

'Where's your date?' I asked. He looked around.

'I dunno, I'm not even sure what she looks like,' he confessed. 'Where's yours?'

'I have the same problem,' I said. 'Let's hope they know what _we_ look like.'

Pretty soon, the couples had started dancing. I could see Malfoy over the other side of the room standing with a horrified looking Gryffindor in our year. I smirked and he saw me and glared back. He grabbed the poor girls arm and dragged her over to me and Harry.

'On a date with Potter, are you Fissure?' he said snottily. I shrugged.

'Nope, I'm waitin' for my hot date.'

'Bet he doesn't turn up. Bet the moment he saw your name on the card he faked sick,' Malfoy said snidely

I suddenly got an idea. Malfoy was a Slytherin, maybe he'd know? And even if he did lie, it hardly mattered. A small voice was telling me he was right, otherwise, why was he so late?

'Malfoy, do you know if there's someone called Bouilloire Garçon in Slytherin?' I asked. He looked slightly surprised. Apparently people didn't usually ignore his taunts so readily, and ask strange questions.

'No, there isn't,' he said thoughtfully. Suddenly his face split into a malicious grin. 'Oh! You've been picked to partner with a _fake date_! Someone wrote a fake name and you got picked!' he cried, gleeful all of a sudden. He began to yell louder, when his date suddenly stamped on his foot.

'Shut up, Malfoy,' she growled, before looking at me levelly. I made a mental note to find out her name later.

Malfoy, looking wounded, satisfied himself with giving me another smirk before stalking away, his date tagging along behind.

I sighed, and realized that Harry must have disappeared somewhere during the conversation. I noticed him a while away, dancing with a white-blonde haired girl.

I could also see Ron and Hermione dancing. Ron was still red-faced, and he seemed reluctant to touch Hermione at all. Hermione was trying to make do and continue dancing, even though Ron seemed quite happy to keep ten feet of free space between them.

I smiled sadly. So I had a fake date. Oh well. Maybe Malfoy was lying? Who knows. It hardly even mattered, as I was quite alone either way. I bowed my head miserably.

'Lark?' a soft voice asked. I looked up. A boy stood in front of me, raven black hair messily combed in a vague way. His soft blue/grey eyes smiled as he apologized for being late.

'I'm Bouilloire,' he said softly, pronouncing it "Bwilwah", 'would you like to dance?'

He was beautiful and I could barely nod as he pulled me out onto the floor. Who was he? No one knew who he was, least of all me.

I noticed, as we spun, that a lot of people were staring at us. I flushed red and he smiled that beautiful, soft smile at me.

'Having fun?' he asked. Everything about him was soft and wonderful, from his manners to his appearance. I grinned. Something about him was familiar though…

'Um, what house, are you in?' I asked curiously. No one had heard of him, and it certainly seemed as if no one had seen him before.

'None, yet,' he said. The dance stopped and he released me. 'Care for a drink?'

I nodded slowly and he walked away. Hermione and Ron appeared at my elbow.

'Is that him?' Hermione asked excitedly. 'Why, I've never seen him before! Did you find out what house he's in?'

'None yet,' I said slowly. 'That's what he said. Do you think he's like me? Starting halfway through life, I mean.'

'You never know. He's, he's pretty though, isn't he?'

Ron snorted loudly, 'as if, he looks like a china doll.'

'Doesn't he just?' Lavender sighed, joining us along with her date, Ernie Macmillan. 'How I envy you! I can't help but be green with envy.'

'Care to swap?' Pavarti asked happily, appearing hand in hand with a Ravenclaw boy. The boy scowled playfully and pulled her into a hug.

At that moment Bouilloire returned with our drinks. He smiled at my friends.

'Hello, you must be Lark's friends,' he said softly. 'I'm Bouilloire.'

'I'm-' Lavender started to say, but in stepping forward to introduce herself she tripped, and knocked Bouilloire's arm that was holding the drink, causing it to spill all down the front of my dress.

'Lavender!' he cried angrily, staring at my dress in dismay. It was amazing the transformation he had made, from soft to furious. His features were completely different, his voice no longer lilting, but now harsh with anger. And the niggling feeling of familiarity was even greater. 'Look what you made me do!'

'It's alright, I'm fine,' I tried to say. He was scary now.

'I'm so sorry, Bweelwah-' Lavender cried, stumbling on the strange name.

'It's _Bwilwah_!' he hissed. Then his features seemed to get under control and his face returned to the calm look it had had before.

'Come on, Lark, we'll get you cleaned up,' he said, his voice soft with only a little bit of an edge. He led me off.

But there was something that was bugging me.

'How did you know Lavender's name?' I asked curiously as he led me off. He glanced at me and I noticed the frown back on his face.

'That clumsy girl,' he muttered, 'ruined your nice dress, after you went through so much trouble to make it.'

'How did you know that!' I asked, growing more incredulous each time he spoke, 'I thought you were new!'

He seemed to realize what I was saying now, and his face paled and he coughed. 'I've been here for a few days, watching. And such. I know a few people's names, like… yours,' he said, his voice shy. I flushed bright red and averted my eyes. He was so beautiful.

Someone leant on my shoulder all of a sudden. 'So this is your date then,' Malfoy's voice said. I glared at him and looked apologetically at Bouilloire.

'This is Malfoy. He's a Slytherin,' I said, because that explained everything.

'Nice hair, Fissure, I see it's starting to grow back,' Malfoy said snidely. 'And your dress too, such a… pretty… homemade thing. And your date, he looks like he just walked out of a modeling studio.'

I flushed redder than before and opened my mouth to say something, but before I could Bouilloire slipped an arm around my shoulder and looked Malfoy right in the eye.

'Jealous, are you?' he said softly, smiling sweetly. I opened and closed my mouth a few times.

Malfoy scowled, 'hardly. I have a date anyway.'

'Oh really?' Bouilloire's eyebrow was raised, 'and where is she?'

Malfoy realized that his date had ditched him, and his scowl deepened as he turned back to us.

'What are you then?' he snarled at Bouilloire, 'a mudblood, a muggle-lover, or a squib? Or, something worse?'

'Something worse?' Bouilloire faked surprise, 'you mean, like you?'

With that, he tightened his arm around my shoulders and steered me away. We walked away leaving Malfoy spitting insults at our backs.

--

I led Bouilloire up to the girl's bathrooms and checked no one was in there before leading him in.

Bouilloire was staring at the mirror with a strange look. Slowly, he reached up and touched his face softly. Seeing me watching curiously he stopped and smiled.

'It's just been a while since I saw so… clearly,' he said in his sweet way. I smiled.

'Did you just get your eyes fixed?' I asked. A funny look crossed his face.

'I guess you could say that,' he said slowly.

Once I'd toweled the worst off my dress he offered me his arm again. I felt myself grinning insanely and tried to stop myself.

All at once he gave a laugh and picked me up, swinging me around in circles. I squealed and clutched at him, afraid of falling.

'Oh, Lark! I feel so free. I haven't been about to run and jump for so long,' he laughed, putting me down and hugging me tightly.

'Wh-what? Why, ah-and, how..?' I gasped. I could hear his heart beating right in my ear, he was so close.

'And I've wanted you to meet you properly for so long, but I was so nervous… oh!'

He released me, as if he'd suddenly realized he probably shouldn't have been holding me. His face was so cute, all flushed with embarrassment.

'What I mean to say is, I hope tonight is fun for you,' he said, his voice wobbly and apologetic.

I grinned. 'Seeing Malfoy's face was probably the highlight.'

A troubled look floated across Bouilloire's features, a shadow of the annoyance and anger he'd aimed at Lavender earlier. 'Yes. That boy is trouble.' He murmured thoughtfully. I shrugged, wanting to bring his smile back.

'He's not so bad, just a small annoyance. But Bouilloire… I have a question. Are you coming to Hogwarts soon?'

He smiled and took my hand, leading me towards the door and talking as we walked. 'Soon, I'm not sure when. I need to make some more arrangements. You need more time to…' he trailed off uneasily. 'Soon, I hope. Before Christmas.'

I smiled at him. 'I hope so,' I said, flushing. Then I skipped off to join Hermione. He followed softly behind me.

--

Bouilloire had to leave suddenly shortly after midnight. Ron took it as a cue and hurriedly left too, claiming to feel ill.

Harry seemed to be having fun with his date still, so Hermione and I gave him a wave of goodbye before retiring to the dorm room.

'I just don't get Ron,' Hermione sighed. 'He's really nice, but…'

'Very shy,' I murmured. She nodded.

'Yeah, I guess that must be it.'

'He's a bit of an idiot,' Kettle interjected from his place on my trunk. I glared at him.

'And what would you know?' I snapped, 'oh, and where were you just before the dance? You shouldn't go disappearing like that.'

'Why, you worrying about me?' he teased. I stuck my tongue out at him. 'If you must know,' he continued seriously, 'I was sleeping.'

'So, whenever the swirly blackness is not in the kettle, you're sleeping?' I asked curiously.

'Yes,' he said slowly, almost unsurely.

'What kind of a spell _are_ you?' Hermione asked suddenly. 'You aren't like any I've seen, you don't wear out, and you seem to have a small control over the kettle itself,' she gestured to the lid that moved in time with Kettle's words.

'I'm ah, just a simple charm,' Kettle said, 'nothing at all fancy.'

'But, to have such a… humanely flawed personality-'

'Who's personality is flawed?!'

'No! What I was trying to say was just-'

At that moment Lavender and Partvarti came bouncing in and landed on my bed. Lavender pouted.

'I don't think your date liked me much, Lark,' she said sulkily. 'Is your dress okay?'

I nodded apologetically, 'yeah, it's fine. I'm sorry about that… he got _really_ angry, didn't he?'

'Over nothing,' Parvarti agreed.

'It wasn't nothing,' Kettle said crossly, 'you spilt drink on Lark's homemade dress.'

'Who told you?' Lavender snapped.

'Don't worry about him,' I sighed, 'he's like a spy. He knows everything.'

'He has a bad temper,' Hermione mused. 'Bouilloire, I mean.'

'He's really pretty though,' Parvarti sighed.

'And he's really sweet,' I said. They turned to me.

'So tell us! What happened?' Lavender asked excitedly. I flushed and shrugged.

'Oh, well, he was really, ah, sweet and nice and stuff… but really strange. He kept saying things that made no sense.'

'Like what?' Parvarti asked.

'Like, oh, that he'd been wanting to meet me properly for so long, which was… a little creepy,' I confessed. Lavender gasped.

'But that's so romantic!' she squealed. 'You are _so_ lucky Lark.'

I shrugged. 'I don't know, he was… strange,' I said thoughtfully.

'Didn't you like him?' Kettle asked, surprised. 'But he was really charming!'

'I know, but…' I sighed. 'Yes, I liked him. But I want to know more about him. He was very, mysterious.'

'When's he coming to Hogwarts?' Parvarti asked.

'Sometime before Christmas,' Kettle provided.

'Thanks, Kettle,' I said drily. 'It really is creepy how you know everything.'

'Oh, shut up,' he muttered darkly.

* * *

Author's Note: 

There we go. The dance finally. –is retarded- New character though:D

I hope you weren't disappointed or anything. This took me so long to write ; I rewrote it a couple of times, because it was just stupid. But this is what we end up with. Garbage!

Enjoy :)


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen: Conflicts**

'Where's your Perfect Date then?' Malfoy asked as we stirred the potion. I smirked at him.

'He's coming here soon.'

He snorted and flicked his wand so the potion sprayed on my smock. I glared at him. It was a potion for instant grass, and my smock had sprouted green shoots everywhere I'd been splashed.

'You're a jerk, Malfoy,' I muttered, spelling it away.

'Bouilloire Garçon. What a stupid name,' he muttered, ignoring me.

'Oooh, did he hurt little Malfoy's feelings?' I mocked. He glared at me.

'No, it's just a stupid name,' he snapped.

'Hey Malfoy,' I said as we bottled a sample of our potion for Snape, 'what do you call a deer with no eyes?'

He stared at me incredulously. 'No idea,' he muttered eventually.

'Correct!' I cried, before skipping off to give Snape the potion.

When I returned, Malfoy was frowning. Not that that was a surprise. He must've been the grumpiest guy I'd ever met.

'I don't get it,' he said as I sat down. I grinned. He wasn't supposed to.

'What do you call a dear with no legs _and_ no eyes,' I said.

'I've still got no idea!' he cried angrily. I started to laugh.

'Almost, a few too many words that time,' I snorted. He was flushed red with frustration.

'You're _weird_, Fissure,' he snapped.

'What's the matter, lost your cool?' I teased. I loved having the upper hand. He smirked, all of a sudden.

'What's the matter, kettle's empty?' he said quietly, leaning close. I jumped.

'What did you say?' My eyes were wide.

'I hope you don't _change_ in front of your kettle, Fissure,' he drawled. I grabbed his arm impatiently.

'How'd you know he's empty sometimes?' I asked quickly. He yanked his arm away from me looking smug.

'It wasn't hard to figure out,' he said nonchalantly. 'A few clues was all I needed, the rest was fairly obvious.'

'What was!' I cried angrily. He was so… frustrating! He smirked at me and shrugged.

'Don't tell the kettle anything you wouldn't tell Bouilloire, that's all I'm going to tell you,' he drawled. I was shaking with anger. Suddenly, it wasn't so funny.

'You're so annoying Malfoy,' I hissed at him. He continued to smirk.

'Right back at you,' he whispered, as Snape started the demonstrations.

Malfoy's and my potion was perfect, as it so often was as of late. I hated to admit it, but he was smart at potions. He always noticed when I was about to do something wrong and stopped me. And then teased me about it for the rest of the lesson.

At the end of the lesson Snape stood at the front of the room and addressed the class.

'Class,' he drawled in his tone of voice that was very similar to my potions partner's, 'I've been informed that we need to set a… project… for our students that they will be marked on at the end of term, when we let out for the Christmas holidays.'

The class groaned. Snape silenced us with a glare.

'You will be required to work with your partner – no, Mr. Malfoy, there is no swapping – and you will have to produce a potion from this list. I will mark you on the quality of it, and your choice of potion. I will need two vials of it, one from each of you. Are there any… questions?'

'Sir?' a Gryffindor voice piped up from the back of the class, 'will we work on these in class, or-'

'You will be required to work on this in your own time, not in mine. Class will continue as usual for us.'

I gaped. Spend time outside of class with Malfoy? Had he done this on purpose, just for me?

Malfoy smirked at me as Snape dismissed us, though he didn't look thrilled either.

'Well, Fissure, I guess we'll be spending some time together then,' he said. I glared. 'Any idea which potion we should make?' he indicated the list.

'How about an anti-jerk potion? We could try it on you,' I suggested sarcastically, grabbing my stuff and trying to leave. He stepped in my way, scowling.

'I want to get a good mark, Fissure. Do you want a say in the potion we do, or will you be satisfied with my choice?' he asked. I rolled my eyes.

'Go for your life Malfoy. See you later,' I snapped, shoving past him and out of the classroom.

--

I could barely wait until the end of classes. As soon as they finished, I raced back to the dorms.

'Kettle,' I panted, as soon as I entered since I'd run the whole way, 'Kettle.'

'Um, hello,' he said awkwardly. 'Now before you say anything-'

'Malfoy, was saying weird stuff, in potions,' I interrupted, catching my breath. 'Kettle, what's going on? How do you know Bouilloire?'

'I don't,' Kettle said after a small pause. I groaned and collapsed to sit on my bed next to him.

'Please, tell me. Malfoy's already "figured it out", and I can't stand that cocky bastard knowing things I don't. Plus I have to be quick here, I promised Hermione I'd meet her to do our Charms homework.'

'I know all that, of course, but… I can't tell you,' Kettle said reluctantly.

'But you _do_ know Bouilloire, don't you?' I insisted.

'Yes. We're, we're old friends,' Kettle admitted slowly. I sighed and grinned, Malfoy no longer had the upper hand.

'You'll tell me the rest one day, wont you Kettle?' I asked as I collected my Charms things.

'…Course. Now leave me be,' he snapped, back to his usual brisk manner. A sudden thought occurred to me.

'Hey, Kettle, is the reason you can't tell me because of something to do with your spell?'

'Yes!' he cried after a moment, suddenly happy. 'I mean, yes, it is. But I couldn't say that. But now that you've guessed it it's okay.'

'So you can tell me everything now?' I said excitedly.

'Oh, um. No,' he said quickly , 'doesn't work like that.'

I shrugged, giving up. 'Fine,' I muttered. 'Well, I'm off to meet Hermione then. I'll see you later.'

I made sure to slam the door on my way out. I hate people keeping secrets from me.

--

'_Lumos_,' I said, and my wand tip glowed bright.

'Now, practice dimming it,' Hermione said.

I dimmed it until it was almost not there, and then brightened it. The light became so fierce we couldn't look at it. I returned it to a subdued level, and looked at Hermione in the semi-dark.

'You're getting better,' she commented, 'you're about as good as Ron, anyway.'

'I heard that,' Ron muttered from nearby.

We were in an empty classroom, and we'd shut all the drapes and turned down all the lamps to create an artificial darkness in which to practice our Lumos charms in.

'_Lumos_,' Harry said, adding his wand-light to mine. With the two combined the class room was pretty much lit up. Hermione joined hers, and then gestured impatiently for Ron to do it too.

'_Lumos_,' Ron said impatiently, and his wand flickered halfheartedly. On the second try it lit up properly.

'Hey, let's turn 'em as bright as we possibly can,' I suggested daringly.

'But, the light might hurt-'

'Aw, come on Hermione. Just once,' Ron whined. I grinned.

'Fine,' she conceded grudgingly.

We turned up the light slowly at first, before giving it our all on the count of three. The light was so sudden and painfully bright I cried out and shut my eyes, dropping my wand and falling backwards. From the sounds of crashes in the classroom I guess the others did too.

I'd only seen the light for a moment, but it had been beautiful. Such a pure, whiteness I had never seen before. It was still burned into my retinas.

'Owwww!' I heard Ron groan. 'That's probably the stupidest thing I've ever done.'

There were lots more crashes as we all stumbled around, blind in the darkness.

'I can't find my wand,' I complained.

'My eyes!' I heard Hermione gasp.

I squeezed my eyes shut. They were aching, and I couldn't see anything with them open anyway.

Suddenly the classroom's door opened. 'What the..?' a voice said, before lighting the lamps.

I squealed and hid my face in my hands. 'Turn it off! Turn it off!' I cried, along with the others.

'Potter? Weasley? Gr- what on earth are you all doing?' Malfoy's incredulous voice spoke again, but he turned the light off anyway. I heard him mutter _Lumos_ though.

'Is Fissure here?' he asked the semi darkness when no one replied.

'Yes,' I muttered. 'What is it you want, Malfoy?'

'I wanted to work on our project,' he said. I opened my eyes a crack, and could just see the light of his wand a few meters away. It was weak, so I opened my eyes fully. Hermione and Ron had found each other nearby, and were talking in low voices. Hermione's eyes were shut, but Ron was looking at her intently.

'Where are my glasses? Is that _Malfoy_ I can hear?' Harry was saying, trying frantically to locate his glasses.

There was no way I was going to study with Malfoy. He could do the whole thing by himself for all I cared. I started to crawl towards the doorway, hoping to escape.

'Fissure?' Malfoy's wand-light moved, he was looking for me.

I made it to the door and stumbled to my feet, lurching out into the light. It hurt my eyes all over again and I squealed and shut them, tripping over my feet and landing with a thud.

I opened my eyes after a moment to find Malfoy himself leering at me. I sighed.

'Alright,' I grumbled in defeat, 'let's do this.'

We ended up in the library, with a big bile of potions books on either side of us.

'I think we should do the Veritaserum,' Malfoy said thoughtfully, turning pages. I was slumped on the desk with my head in my hands, sulking.

'Sure,' I muttered. 'Whatever the hell that is.'

'I _would_ do this all by myself but Professor Snape wants a vial from each of us. I'm not having marks deducted from me because you can't read directions properly,' he drawled, putting a book in front of me. I made a face at him.

'What's the matter, can't you read?' he said with mock concern. I kicked him hard under the table.

'Quit picking on me, Malfoy!' I hissed. He snorted and looked at me with amused grey eyes.

'Quit making yourself such a target then, Fissure.'

I snatched the book he'd given me off the table and hoisted my bag onto my shoulder. 'Look, Malfoy, I'm going to study over there, away from you. If you need me for something, _**don't bother**_,' I said icily, before stalking away.

* * *

Malfoy rubbed his eyes tiredly. He looked at the work he'd done so far, and began to pack up.

'Fissure?' he called, glancing towards where she was working.

Her head was resting on her arms which were in turn resting on the book she'd been studying, her body slowly rising and falling along with her breath. She didn't answer him.

'She's asleep!' he thought incredulously. After all the work he'd been doing, she'd just been snoring her silly little head off.

'Fissure!' he snapped, marching over to her. She moved a bit, but didn't wake up. He yanked the book out from under her.

'Wake up!' he commanded. She flinched and did so, blinking sleepily.

'M-Malfoy? What are you doing in Gryffindor… oh,' she murmured, confused. 'I'm in the library still.'

'Did you do _any_ work?' Malfoy sighed, annoyed. She shook her head.

'Nope, but at least I know what Veritaserum is now.'

She seemed to have woken up now, and she picked up her bag and books, getting ready to leave.

''Bye then,' she said nonchalantly.

'You're a slacker, Fissure, it comes from hanging out with the Weasley's, and Mudbloods.' Malfoy spluttered.

She had to be _the_ most annoying creature he'd ever met. Always kicking up a fuss, picking fights, being purposely annoying.

'What did you say?' she cried, spinning to look at him. He smirked. She had an annoying tendency to be immune to most of the insults he said, too. But lately she was getting annoyed faster, mostly when he insulted Granger.

'Mudblood Granger. Halfblood Potter. Dirt-poor Weasley. With friends like those, no one really expects much from you. Oh, and don't forget your talking Kettle, and your faker of a friend Garçon.'

To his surprise, she didn't just make a face and spit things at him, but she leapt at him, knocking him to the ground.

'Take it back! There's nothing wrong with having normal parents! It's hardly her fault anyway. It's a miracle, she should be revered! Look at that, muggles with a wizard child! It's like a flower blooming on a barren field. Where I came from, in my world… my other world I mean, being a wizard was the stupid thing!' she cried, kneeling on his chest. He gasped for air and tried to shove her off him, if he could just reach his wand in his pocket…

She saw what he was doing and grabbed his arm, slamming it onto the ground.

'Apologize, Malfoy! You're the scum here!'

'I am not!' he spluttered, wriggling, 'my family-'

'This has nothing to do with your family! This is about _you_!'

At that moment Madame Pince appeared, a lantern swinging from her hand. She gasped and marched over, yanking Fissure off Malfoy.

'And just _what_ are you two doing?' she cried. '_KISSING_?! Amongst _my_ books?!'

'No, no we weren't kissing, we were-' Fissure tried to say. Malfoy found himself smirking at the look of utter disgust on her face.

'Get out!' Madame Pince screeched, pulling Malfoy off the floor and propelling him and Fissure towards the doorway. 'Get out, get out, get out!' Malfoy and Fissure ran out of the library as fast as they could.

'Night, Malfoy,' Fissure said sullenly as they went their separate ways after fleeing from the mad librarian.

'Night,' Malfoy said shortly without looking back.

* * *

Author's Note:

One of the things in this chapter doesn't work. It is the Veritaserum. The ministry doesn't actually let people make this potion freely… -ahem- but I need it for part of the plot.

And the 'No eye-deer' joke… I always liked the idea that Wizards would find muggle jokes really confusing, and that one is confusing enough. The correct punch line for the second part is 'Still no eye-deer' (still no idea).

I hope you like it


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen: A Disappearance**

I continued fuming for about a week. If Malfoy came near me, I'd snarl something at him and leave as quickly as possible. He was just pissing me off so much, with his stuck up attitude and all. Plus, I was frightened if I was near him too long, I'd launch myself at him and beat him senseless.

And now Potions was even more detestable than ever, if that was even possible. I refused to speak to the disgusting little rat, so his head of house picked on me worse than ever. I sat through the class with a sullenly dead expression on my face.

Snape seemed to enjoy seeing me like that though, as he didn't move me out of the partnership. I considered sabotaging our potions constantly and blowing things up, but decided it was more trouble than it was worth.

'Fissure,' Malfoy sneered at the end of class, 'I want to talk to you.'

I was going to keep walking and ignore him, but decided not to in the end. There was only just over a month until the assignment was due, and I didn't really want to give Snape another excuse to give me bad marks.

'You guys go on,' I said to Hermione, Ron and Harry. They nodded, though Hermione hung back.

'Don't do anything you'll regret!' she squeaked, before dashing off after the boys.

'What is it Malfoy,' I sighed, turning to him. He scowled.

'Look, Fissure, I like you less than you like me,' he started.

'Doubt it,' I snorted.

'Trust me,' he snapped, 'but I have to get this assignment done. Even if I have to tie you up and drag you to the library, you _will_ create a good potion to go with mine.'

I glared at him sullenly.

'So, I'll meet you in the library after dinner. To finish the written stuff,' he said.

'Right,' I snapped.

'You over react way too much,' he muttered.

'I do not!' I cried. He flinched away for a moment, and I realized he thought I had been going to fly at him again.

'I don't,' I repeated, quietly this time.

'You do. You haven't spoken to me for a week, all because I called your friend names-'

'If I had my way, I wouldn't speak to you at all,' I snapped. I gritted my teeth. He was frustrating.

'Just shut up and deal with it, Fissure!' he snarled. 'It's not like I want to speak to you either.'

'You're going to wish you'd never messed with me, Malfoy,' I hissed.

'Oh, I'm terrified,' he whispered sarcastically. I glowered at him, before turning and marching away.

--

When I returned to the common room later that day, Hermione and the boys were waiting for me in the common room. Ron was staring into the fire, Harry was fiddling with his shirt in an agitated way, and Hermione was pacing backwards and forth.

'Lark!' she cried when I entered, stopping her pacing and running to me. 'He's gone, but I don't know where, maybe someone took him? I don't know!'

She was almost hysterical, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Ron was looking uncomfortable and Harry was furious.

'What's the matter?' I asked quickly, dropping my book bag.

'Kettle's disappeared!' Hermione sobbed.

'_What_?' I gasped. Someone had taken Kettle? 'Did you see anyone..?'

'No one! I just got back, and he was gone! At first I thought you'd taken him out with you, and then I noticed that there were other things missing too, like my blazer, and a scarf, and your necklace-'

'It's alright,' I said calmly. 'He's wandered off before, maybe this is just like all those other time. He might come back by tomorrow, and bring all the stuff back with him.'

'But what if someone took him?' Ron asked quickly. 'And he's never wandered off _with_ the _kettle_ before.'

'I bet I know who took him,' Harry seethed.

'Who?' I asked quickly. Parvarti? Lavender? Maybe they'd heard that he had a connection to Bouilloire and wanted to get a look?

'Malfoy,' Harry said, his voice filled with conviction, 'who else?'

I thought about it for a moment, before shaking my head. 'No,' I paused, 'no. Not even Malfoy would do that. How would he get in, anyway? I thought it was impossible for boys to get into the girl's dorms, let alone for him to get into Gryffindor Tower.'

'Malfoy's one slimy bugger, Lark,' Ron said thoughtfully. 'I wouldn't put it past him. Besides, he's kind of girly already.'

'I'm really sorry, Lark…' Hermione said softly. I managed a grin and hugged her tightly.

'It wasn't your fault, 'Mione,' I said kindly. 'You weren't here, and he might have been taken even while we were in classes. It's nothing to worry about now at least, anyway.'

I gestured for Ron to come over, and steered Hermione into him. 'Give her a hug!' I hissed. He looked terrified, but obeyed anyway.

Satisfied that Hermione was wrapped in the arms of someone who cared for her, I turned to Harry.

'You really think it was Malfoy?' I asked. He nodded seriously. I frowned.

'I don't think it's possible,' I said eventually, shrugging. 'For him to get in and out of there, plus Kettle would have made a huge racket and all…' I shook my head with an air of finality. 'No, I don't think it was Malfoy.'

Harry shrugged. 'Alright then, if you think so,' he said. 'But if Kettle doesn't turn up…'

'I'll smash his face in anyway,' I finished. 'Whether he did it or not, I'm pretty sure I'll feel like it.'

Harry grinned and nodded. 'It's settled, then,' he laughed.

--

I still had the guts to turn up at the library though. Malfoy was already sitting at a desk inside. Madame Pince watched me with hawk eyes as I sat at the same table as the hateful boy.

'Evening,' he said politely, without looking up.

I didn't say anything and just got out my books to begin writing.

'We have to finish this all tonight,' he said anyway. 'It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so we should make the potion tomorrow.'

'Fabulous,' I said softly. I wasn't in the mood for a fight.

'You right?' he said looking up. He wasn't concerned though, more annoyed, I realized.

'Always am,' I said with sarcastic brightness. He rolled his eyes.

I began working. Time passed, and I realized I was stuck. Part of it just didn't make sense.

'I bet Malfoy knows…' I thought. Could I bring myself to ask him?

…No.

I sat for a long time, fidgeting. Starting sentences and crossing them out.

'What the hell is the matter?' Malfoy snapped eventually, as I started absent mindedly tapping my foot on the floor.

'What do you mean?' I asked, avoiding his eyes. He glared at me.

'That's the seventh time you've dropped your quill,' he said drily.

'Oh. Um, I just… I don't understand this part,' I said in a small voice.

He sighed and stood up, coming to look at my work. He pulled a face at the doodles all around the edges, most depicted a me-looking stick figure stabbing/guillotining/wounding a Malfoy-looking stick figure.

He read it through only once, before taking the quill from my hand and changing a few things.

'So it's here you're having trouble then?' he said, indicating the area where I'd started writing gibberish.

'Mm,' I said slowly. His shoulder bumped mine as he leant forward to continue writing.

I looked at him, as he did. I'd never really looked at him before. Pale features, light blonde hair. Serious, blue/grey eyes. I felt a wave of repulsion hit me as the word 'pretty' popped into my mind.

'Oh, gross,' I muttered, grimacing.

'What?' Malfoy asked, looking at me, a confused scowl on his face.

'Nothing,' I said quickly, flushing.

'It wasn't making sense because you had these steps backwards,' he said, ignoring me. 'So once you've swapped them… there, does it make sense now?'

I leaned closer and looked at the changes he'd made. Now it _did_ make sense.

'Oh! Yes! Much better, thank-'

I stopped. He didn't deserve to be thanked.

'What was that, Fissure?' he drawled. 'A thank you?'

'No,' I muttered sullenly.

'I think it was.'

'Well it wasn't.'

He smirked and went back to his chair. I pulled a face at him and looked back down at my work.

It was then I noticed a doodle down the bottom of the page that I hadn't done. It showed Malfoy standing on a pedestal with his usual smug face and several fan girls around him, and then a version of me that had a hunch back, pointy teeth, drool, uneven eyes, and a generally unpleasant appearance.

'I see you think I'm rather attractive,' I said drily. He snorted loudly and I smirked.

--

'Lark?'

I sat up quickly, my neck snapping back. I groaned in pain and rubbed it.

'Hermine?' I whispered.

I was still in the library, my head had been resting on my text book. Malfoy and all his things had disappeared, and Hermione was slowly collecting my things.

'What's the time?' I asked quietly, helping her.

'After midnight,' she replied softly. 'When you didn't come back by twelve I came looking for you… he was gone when I arrived.'

'Oh, damn!' I swore. 'I was supposed to finish the written stuff so we could do the…'

I trailed off, looking at my work. I could only remember doing about half of it, but someone had finished the rest with neat, spiky writing. I stared, confused.

At the bottom of the page was a little box, and in the box more words were written.

_I tried to wake you, but you're damn lazy. Copy it onto a __clean__ sheet of parchment, please. 8 o'clock tomorrow in the charms classroom._

'Malfoy,' I hissed angrily. 'I must have fallen asleep,' I said turning to Hermione. She looked worried.

'Well, I think we should go back to the common room. Um, tomorrow we can look for Kettle.'

I remembered then, what had been worrying me before Malfoy. Kettle had disappeared. Strangely, I didn't feel too upset or frightened.

'Alright, but I have to go at eight.'

Hermione nodded, and together we set off for Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

Author's Note: 

Dun, dun! Is that the faint underline of a plot I see? gasp

:D Here is the next part. I hope you like it


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen: Assignments and Complications**

Kettle hadn't returned when I woke up. I felt a little knot of panic form in my gut, making me feel ill.

I managed to get through classes though, along with Hermione's support and Harry's Malfoy-Blaming and Ron's Malfoy-Bashings.

As soon as class let out, Hermione pulled out a list of places to look.

'I say we just ask Malfoy,' Ron said, 'after all, if the git didn't take it, he'll know who did.'

'Ron,' Hermione said crossly, 'we don't _know_ if he did it, so we can't jump to conclusions. Besides, Lark has to see him later, so she can ask him then.'

'You have to see him?' Harry said incredulously. 'Why on earth did you arrange that?'

'Potions assignment,' I groaned. 'I'd completely forgotten, thanks Hermione.'

'Was that sarcastic or genuine?'

'Both.'

'So where do you suggest then, Hermione?' Harry asked.

'Gryffindor Tower, first,' she said quickly. 'Lark and I'll check the girl's dorms, and you two can check the boy's. Then we'll check the common room.'

'Why would a Gryffindor take it?' Ron whined. 'The only kind of person who would take it would be a Slytherin, and oh! What a surprise! Guess who's a Slytherin?'

'Ron,' I snapped impatiently. 'Quit it.'

--

Most people were out in the freshly fallen snow, or in the common room. Wherever they were, the dorms were basically empty. It was easy for Hermione and I to sneak in and have a quick check.

'We don't have to actually riffle through their stuff,' Hermione explained. 'Just use an Accio charm, and he should come.'

'What if someone's spelled him to avoid Accio, though?' I asked.

'Then he won't be in any of the rooms anyway. No one here is _that_ desperate to have him.'

He wasn't in any of the girls dorms, and Ron and Harry didn't find him in the boys dorms either. We checked the common room next, and accidentally summoned someone else's kettle, still filled with boiling water.

'Oops!' I cried, dropping it with a cry of pain and surprise. It splashed water all over my feet and the rich red carpet.

'You're a clumsy one,' my brother, Harry said, picking it up. 'Why did you want my kettle?'

'I was looking for mine, actually,' I admitted. 'Sorry.'

'Oh, the talking one you stole from the Murray's?' Luke – my other brother – said, appearing at Harry's elbow.

Harry – my friend Harry – appeared at my elbow and sighed. 'I can't find it, Lark.'

'Where next, Hermione?' Ron asked, stomping up behind my brother Harry. 'And if your answer is going to be anything other than 'bash Malfoy', then I don't want to hear it.'

'Did someone take it?' Luke asked. I shrugged, Ron and Harry both said, 'Malfoy did.'

'Next we're going to check some of the classrooms nearby,' Hermione said through gritted teeth. She marched the two boys towards the portrait hole.

'It's just missing. We're looking for it,' I explained. 'Ron and Harry are convinced Malfoy took it, though I can't see how, and Hermione is giving him the benefit of the doubt.'

'He did it,' both my brothers said at the same time. I glared.

'Why does everyone think that?' I exclaimed.

'Because he's a git, a prick, and a pure-blood moron, plus he hates your guts,' Brother Harry said.

'Yeah, thanks,' I muttered. 'I have to spend all night with him.'

--

I turned up in the charms classroom at twenty past eight, a couple of pieces of bread clutched in my hands, one in my mouth.

'Where have you been?' Malfoy demanded. I rolled my eyes.

'All around,' I mumbled through my mouthful, shutting the door with my foot. 'Do you mind if I eat now?'

He sighed in disgust and waved his hand absent mindedly. I sat down on a desk and began to eat my bread. I was starving, Hermione had kept us strategically checking all the classrooms on the seventh floor, so we'd been very, very late to dinner. I just had time to grab the bread before hurrying here.

Malfoy watched me eat with a funny expression. It resembled disgust.

'What?' I said, swallowing a huge mouthful. 'I'm hungry.'

'You're disgusting,' he said, contempt in his voice. I laughed.

'No, I'm _hungry._'

'Did you miss dinner or something?' he asked after a few moments silence. Well, as silent as it could be with me munching.

'As a matter of fact, I did. I have been searching for my kettle all evening. Oh!' a thought occurred to me, and I put down my bread, turning back to Malfoy, 'which reminds me, I have to interrogate you.'

'What?' he asked incredulously.

'Did you take my kettle?' I was straight to the point, leaping off my desk and moving in close. Ron and Harry explained that I had to be aggressive.

'What the..? No I did not take your kettle!' Malfoy said, moving away. I followed, sticking my finger in his face.

'Oh, didn't you? You're the prime suspect you know.'

'Why?' he asked curiously.

'Because you hate me, and we always fight, and I keep messing up your potions assignment, and duh, you're a Slytherin.'

He snorted, 'I don't hate you.' I looked at him, clearly surprised.

'You don't?' I asked.

'Hate is a strong emotion. I feel no 'strong' emotions about you,' he drawled, smirking at me. I felt my face flush but I managed to shrug.

'Do you know who took my kettle?' I asked. I almost held my breath, waiting for his answer. I had a feeling that we weren't going to find it in the castle, and if we were going to find him again at all, Malfoy would know.

All my hope rode on his answer.

'No, I don't,' he said impatiently. 'Now if you don't mind, could we stop these stupid games and just get on with the assignment?'

My shoulders slumped, I stared at our feet, as his stood and walked to the cauldron he'd set up. I sighed dejectedly, but grudgingly followed him.

--

Once the ingredients had been added, I sat down to copy out my essay from the night before. I grinned at the little stick figures, and added devil horns to all the ones of Malfoy.

Malfoy sat by the cauldron, stirring it absentmindedly. I glanced up at him. He was staring out the window, slowly mixing the potion with his wand. I was suddenly aware of how silent it was in the room.

I cleared my throat, 'oh, um. Thank you for finishing my essay yesterday,' I said awkwardly, ducking my head so it looked like I was working and had just said it casually.

'You were drooling on it,' was all he said, but I saw the smirk out of the corner of my eye. I made a face at my parchment and mimicked him. 'You were drooling on it,' I muttered, making my voice high pitched and girly, and pulling a demented smirk-like face.

'Now you look like the picture I drew of you,' Malfoy commented, snickering. I just glared at my work, and began to write.

After a while, I began to get dozy. My eyes struggled to stay open, but I knew I had to finish. Malfoy was sitting at a desk a little while away, doing work now. Every now and then he'd check on the potion though.

I never used to get so tired. But life at Hogwarts is still so exciting and new to me, even after being here for almost two months. Now I get exhausted faster.

I wrote the final line, and gave a happy sigh. There – the written work was done. I could relax.

I lay my head on my desk, careful to move my work in case I really did drool. I'd just shut my eyes for a moment, to rest them. Then I'd leave, and inform Malfoy he could do the rest.

The next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake. The first thing I saw was Malfoy, and I screamed and shielded my face.

'For god's sake, do you know how freaking _hard_ it is to wake you up?' he cried.

'Sorry!' I whimpered, out of reflex. Then I remembered who I was, where I was, who he was, and what we were doing there. I stood up abruptly, knocking his hands off my shoulders.

'What the hell did you do that for?' I yelled, fixing him with my most vicious glare. He glared straight back at me.

'Because it's after hours, and I moved the potion to a better location, but you were _still_ asleep when I got back,' he snapped.

'So why didn't you just leave me? You have every other time!'

'Because I wanted to tell you where I put the potion!'

'I don't give a fl-'

At that moment he leapt at me, slamming me against the wall, a hand to my mouth. I squeaked and stared at him, eyes wide with fear. He was stronger then I'd expected. My long held expectation that I could easily beat him up faded slightly.

'Shhh,' he said softly. His eyes glinted in the half-light from a lamp on a desk. With a gesture from his wand, he dimmed it completely.

It was then, in the complete silence, with his hand's pinning me to the wall, that I heard it. Quiet footsteps outside the classroom, coming towards us.

I went very still. I was already not breathing because Malfoy's hand was covering my inhalation orifices. That was going to be a problem too.

I tried to wriggle my head away quietly. I needed air quickly. Malfoy's hand only tightened. I wriggled harder. I was sure, if the lights were on, I'd be blue.

He seemed to realize then, and hastily pulled his hand away from my mouth. I sucked in air gratefully, taking care to be silent.

The footsteps had passed us, and continued on. I felt Malfoy's grip on my arm relax, and eventually it dropped away entirely.

With a flick of his wand, he ignited the lamp again. I noticed him smirking at me.

'What?' I whispered, still feeling the need to be silent. He just shook his head, still smirking.

'Your hand tastes foul, Malfoy,' I said, wiping my mouth on my sleeve. 'Just where have you been putting it?'

'On you, of course,' he answered easily. I scowled, and marched over to my bag, grabbing it and stuffing my things inside. Then I marched towards the door.

'Wait,' he said. I ignored him.

'I said wait!' he hissed, leaping and grabbing my arm before I could turn the handle. I scowled at him and yanked my arm away.

'Would you leave me alone you stupid git?' I spat.

'Don't just walk out there,' he snapped. 'There are teachers on patrol.'

'I _know_,' I snapped back. 'I've done this before too!'

He grabbed both my arms roughly and steered me to face him, before ducking his head and sighing exasperatedly. When he looked up again, his face was set in a determined scowl.

'You are _so_ frustrating!' he hissed. 'Would you – for once – just listen to what I tell you?'

'Why should I?' I asked rudely. He looked like he was about to say something, but then closed his mouth and released my arms.

'Why do you care if I get caught, anyway? I would've thought you'd revel in the idea of me getting punished.'

'If you get caught, then they'll triple the guard again, and it'll make it hard for me to sneak out,' he snapped. I snorted.

'Always thinking about yourself,' I said disapprovingly.

'Who else is there to think about?' he retorted.

'Well, there's always _Pansy_.'

'Do you always think of _Bouilloire_ before you do anything? Besides, Pansy is just a friend.'

'Sure she is,' I said sarcastically. 'Well, as much as I'd love to stay and chat all night, I have to go, because I'm tired, and I have to spend all my waking moments looking for my damned rogue _kettle_, and perhaps only someone who's been raised as a non-magic kid can understand just how damn _strange_ that sounds.' I turned and flung the door open.

Snape smirked maliciously at me. Malfoy groaned from behind me.

'It's after hours, Fissure,' Snape purred. His smirk faded when he looked at Malfoy.

'I expected more from you, than hanging around with Gryffindor's in the dead of night,' he said distastefully. Malfoy pulled a face.

'I wasn't-'

'Detention, for the both of you then.'

'But you were the one who-'

'Great,' I mumbled, 'just what I needed.'

* * *

Author's Notes: 

I truly love Snape, too. He is so evilly sneaky.

I used new words for Malfoy in this xD Not just smirk, smug, sly, glare and so on, but _curiously_, and all sorts of other wonderful verbs 8D


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen:**** News**

I flung the dorm's door open and stumbled inside. I waited for the usual snide remark.

'You sound like a herd of elephants, could you keep the noise down?'

Nothing.

I walked through the silence to my bed, tripping on my foot as I did. I put my book bag on my trunk, and listened.

'Have a nice trip? You're so clumsy, people should have to walk _for_ you.'

Silence.

I sighed and took the books out of my bag slowly. It had been a couple of days since Kettle had disappeared. We'd barely searched any of the castle because it was so huge. Ron had pointed out gloomily that it would take us years to search just one floor.

'Lark,' Lavender said suddenly poking her head around the door. 'Hermione told me to remind you that you've got detention.'

I jumped. I'd almost forgotten. 'Oh! Thanks Lavender!' I said, quickly gathering the things I'd need for it. The last few nights Snape had just made us scrub cauldrons separately, so I hadn't had to talk to Malfoy. I figured Malfoy had been checking in on the potion as well, wherever he'd hidden it.

This time, however, when I entered Snape's classroom, they were just leaving.

'Late, Fissure?' Snape drawled.

'Yes, Professor,' I said, by way of apology. Malfoy sniggered behind him.

'We're going to my office,' Snape said, pushing past me. 'I have a different task for you two today.'

_Because it's our last detention, he's probably going to make us do something terrible_, I thought, dismayed. But just what kind of disgusting punishment could Snape think up for a Gryffindor and his pet Slytherin?

I stared around Snape's office. It was exactly as I would have imagined it, basically neat, with vials and stacks of ingredients on shelves everywhere. It was dank and nasty, and I wrinkled my nose.

Snape held up a key, and unlocked the door behind his desk. It swung open to reveal more shelves, lined with more vials and ingredients. On the floor were two huge crates.

'I have a new shipment of ingredients,' he said, indicating the crates. 'Everything is labeled, and you should be able to identify most of the things in there. I want you to sort everything into its _correct_ place, and whatever you do, _do not damage anything_.'

The door swung shut behind us, along with more instructions to keep the noise down and to not disturb him. I wrinkled up my face as the different smells reached my nose.

It was cold as well, and as Malfoy and I began unpacking the crates I found myself shivering.

'You unpack that crate,' Malfoy ordered, 'and I'll do this one.'

I nodded and obeyed. He looked at me curiously.

'What's the matter with you?' he asked. I glared at him.

'Nothing,' I snapped, turning and looking for a place to put the ragwart I'd snatched from the crate.

'Is it about your kettle?' he persisted, working while he spoke. 'Did you like it that much?'

'He was my friend, as well,' I muttered, turning my back on him.

'Do you really want him back, then?'

'Duh. Malfoy, what's this one?' I held up some sort of a plant I didn't recognize.

'Snotroot,' he said, glancing at it. I snorted.

'"Snotroot"? Don't you Wizards just come up with some charming names. What does it do?'

'Cure's colds mostly. And you're one of us too now.'

'So? I don't name plants.'

I located the Snotroot's storage box up on a higher shelf, and stretched up as high as I could to put it in. I couldn't quite reach.

'Could you please move?' Malfoy said, suddenly beside me. He was holding a vial of fine powder.

'Just a sec,' I said, giving a hop and trying to slip the root into the box.

Malfoy sighed and snatched it off me easily, putting it away as if it were nothing. I hadn't realized how much taller he was than me.

He saw me staring at him – I had meant to be glaring – and smirked. 'I see even you find me attractive,' he drawled.

I found myself blushing, and glared my hardest at him. 'You wish Malfoy,' I snapped. 'I was actually just marveling at your hair. It looks especially gelled today.'

Malfoy scowled slightly and leant against a beam. It was then that I realized I was trapped in a small dark room with no windows, with Malfoy standing between me and the door.

My eyes flicked towards it. What did it matter? I'd been alone with Malfoy tons of times by now. What with the potions thing, and homework, and detention. But, well. Malfoy _was_ a boy, too, I realized. And boys always got funny ideas in their minds.

Malfoy gave a wolfish grin then, and I began to think he'd probably gotten a funny idea at that moment. I sighed.

'Excuse me, I need to get to my crate,' I said, trying not to show that I was slightly nervous. He didn't move.

'So have you heard from Bouilloire, yet?' he asked, hitting another sore spot.

'Move, Malfoy,' I snarled. If I barged into him, would he fall?

'He hasn't written?' he said in mock surprise. 'Now, why ever would he do that?'

'I said MOVE!' I yelled, shoving him. He grabbed my wrists and steadied himself with one leg. I tried to yank my hands back.

'Mal-foy!' I hissed. 'Would – you – leave – me – alone!'

'No,' he said, 'not unless you tell me who he is!'

I stared at him, shocked. Were we still talking about Bouilloire?

'Wh-what? But you're the one who-'

'I can't _stand_ not knowing. I don't believe he hasn't written, you two were practically snogging in the halls-'

'We were not!' I cried hotly. 'And, and _what are you talking about_?'

I struggled to make him let go, he was hurting my wrists. I stomped on one of his feet, and he let go of one of my arms. I used that arm to bash him around the head.

'I said let go! Let go let go let go!'

'Quit it!' he cried. 'Would – you just – stop and – listen to me!'

'LET GO LET GO LET GO!'

He slammed a hand over my mouth and swung me around so he could pin my arms with one hand in a sort of hug thing.

'Shut UP!' he hissed, looking towards the door.

No sound came from behind it, as I listened too. Maybe Snape was deaf? Maybe Snape was dead.

The silence seemed to amplify the closeness of the room, and the fact that I was stuck in it with Malfoy.

And the fact that I was _touching Malfoy in a hug-like way_.

I leapt away from him, my suddenness catching him off guard. He stared at me, but didn't seem to have realized what he'd been doing.

My face was bright red, as were my wrists where he'd been holding them. An uncomfortable silence descended as we stared at each other.

'Sorry,' he said suddenly, in a way that suggested he wasn't at all, before turning away and picking out a vial. He pushed past me and placed it, before going back for more.

_Fine_, I thought simply. _If he's going to ignore it, __**I am too**_.

--

'What a, a, a, a _GIT_!' Hermione cried shrilly. 'And your wrists still look sore too, here… give them here.'

As she cast some soothing spells on them, Ron and Harry continued to seethe.

'He's really gone too far this time,' Ron muttered.

'But I thought _he_ was the one who knew about Bouilloire and Kettle?' Harry wondered.

'Why hasn't he written me a freaking letter?!' I exclaimed angrily. Harry, Ron, Hermione and the rest of the common room that was listening gave me a peculiar look.

'Are we still talking about Malfoy?' Ron asked stupidly.

'No!' I snapped. 'I'm talking about Bouilloire. He still hasn't written me.'

'Oh,' Hermione said, looking a bit relieved. 'So… you aren't all that upset about Malfoy?'

'Malfoy?' I asked, a bit confused, 'oh, you mean all this. Well, no. Not really. He usually does stuff like this though, doesn't he? But Bouilloire… he could at least send me a note.'

Harry began to laugh suddenly, and I gave him a surprised look.

'Sorry,' he said quickly, noticing my thunder-cloud expression. 'It's just, you don't seem at all upset by Malfoy's acts, which are deliberately provocative, and then Boowilly-'

'Bouilloire,' I corrected automatically.

'Whoever, he doesn't contact you, and even though he seems like one of the nicest guys around, you're mad at _him_ and not Malfoy.' Harry continued to shake his head in an amused way. I scowled at him.

'It's not funny. Besides, Malfoy said he had something to do with Kettle, and I think Bouilloire or Kettle should have told me. I don't appreciate being made a _joke_ of, by anyone.'

As the day wore on, my bad mood lessened. Bouilloire had never _said_ he'd write, after all. He had only promised to arrive before Christmas. And there was still a couple of weeks before that, wasn't there? Yes, I was being silly.

Malfoy was the one to blame, after all, for putting the thought into my head.

As I sat in the common room doing homework with Hermione, Ron and Harry, I realized that this was the first day in a long while that I'd spent without seeing Malfoy once. The thought made me grin happily.

I began to wonder about Kettle. Who had taken him, and why? It was atrocious to think he'd just grown legs and wandered away by himself, but what other explanation was there?

The conversation in the common room was a soft buzz, and I felt myself drifting off while sitting in the comfy arm chair. I vaguely heard Hermione tell me she was going to get something from upstairs, a sweater or something, and warning me to stay awake.

The next thing I knew, there was a loud shriek and the warm, fuzzy feeling in the common room evaporated as Hermione came racing downstairs.

'Luh-Lark!' she panted, staring at me with wild eyes. 'Lark, there's an owl in our dorm room! It's gone mad!' she squealed.

I leapt to my feet and raced up stairs. How had an owl got in? Lavender, Pavarti, Hermione and I all kept the window firmly closed because it was winter.

When I got into the dorm however, there was nothing but a couple of feathers. The window was open and snow and wind was blowing in, creating a white pile of mush below the window.

'Oh, no!' I cried, rushing forward and slamming the window shut. I stared around at the snow and the wind-blown room.

'Hermione! Lark! What's happened?' Ron's voice called up the stairs. Hermione looked from the room to the door.

'You go tell them,' I said pulling out my wand. 'I wanted to practice anyway.'

She nodded and dashed out the door. I began cleaning up the snow and casting drying spells on the carpet and my bed.

I noticed, all of a sudden, a letter lying on the floor. It was damp, but the ink had only run a little bit. I peered at it curiously, trying to make out the name on the front.

It was addressed to me.

I picked it up hurriedly. This must have come with the owl! I opened the envelope eagerly, almost tearing the letter inside.

I could feel my heart in my throat as I stared at the two words on the page. The handwriting was loopy and large and I didn't recognize it.

_I'm safe_.

--

Hermione, Ron and Harry all agreed it definitely had something to do with Kettle. Who else would send me a letter with just those words, 'I'm safe?'

Ron wanted to know how he'd written it. Hermione scoffed and said the kidnapper had probably done it.

Sitting on my bed late that night, I felt mildly relieved. Kettle might be okay. Whoever had taken him had dropped me a note to say that. Of course, they might be lying.

Harry had pointed out – with a snigger – that it was more likely to be Malfoy now, as the hand writing was so loopy. I had scowled and informed them that his handwriting was completely different.

I got up and padded to the window. The snow had stopped falling, but it was raining outside, and the wind softly rattled the pane. I sighed and reached my hand up to the glass. It was cool to touch, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

I found myself thinking of my 'old' life. I wrote my friends every now and then, but things had begun to get awkward when they asked questions and I dodged them. Luke and Harry had said I wasn't allowed to tell even my friends, so I'd had to make up a lie about going to a different boarding school.

It was sort of sad, really. After fifteen odd years of living one life, I have to turn around and live another. Granted, the new one was much more exciting, but… I sort of missed the simplicity of the old life.

Suddenly I noticed black smudges on the white snow. There were people moving about down there.

In my haste to see who they were, I pressed my nose against the glass, and yelped as the cold bit into my skin. My cry seemed to have been louder than I thought, because Hermione sat up rubbing her eyes fitfully.

'Lark? Lark, are you okay?' she whispered.

I padded back to my bed and crawled in. 'Yes, I'm sorry for waking you,' I whispered back.

'It's okay…' she said sleepily, before falling back onto her pillows. I grinned in the dark and snuggled into my warm blankets.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Here we go again I'd like to thank people for the reviews they've been giving me. :) I reply to all of them, but I'm not sure if people receive them, because generally I don't get a reply… ;

I hope you're enjoying the story. The writing style/characters change a lot, that's my unstable writing style and I apologize. I hope I've found a style in which to stay, though.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

Because the next day was a weekend, I didn't need to bother getting up. I grinned happily to myself as I lay in my bed, curled up and warm.

Suddenly there was a timid knock on the door of my dorm. Hermione, Parvati and Lavender must have already gotten up, so I had to answer.

'Yes?' I croaked, still half asleep.

A terrified looking first year entered. She was practically shaking as she delivered her message.

'Mr. M-Malfoy, said to tell you to come down and muh-meet him in the front hall. He said it wuh-was important,' she stammered. I groaned and flopped back onto my bed.

'Malfoy! It's a _Saturday_.' I turned to the girl, 'would you mind telling him no?'

Her quivering become more violent and she shook her head vigorously. 'Please, he said I was to bring you or he'd jinx my friend Amber, she's awfully frightened, he's _such_ a bully.'

I sighed and rolled out of my warm bed. 'Alright,' I muttered, 'but I'm only coming so I can beat him up.'

She gave me an admiring look as I grabbed up my robes. I ushered her out of the room so I could change.

'Jinxing first years, are we now Malfoy? Well, we _were_ always told to pick on someone our own size,' I said dryly as we arrived. He smirked at me.

'Just woken up, Fissure? Nice hair.'

I remembered I hadn't brushed it yet. It was probably sticking up in weird places. I scowled at him and glanced at the girl with him who must've been Amber.

'Alright, you've blackmailed your way into my morning. You can let her go now. What is it you want?'

Amber and the girl who'd brought me didn't seem to want to leave just yet though. They stood nearby, peering at us. Malfoy scowled at them.

'Clear off!' he snapped. They squealed and disappeared from view entirely.

'Malfoy. You woke me up for _what_?' I growled. 'And some one _better_ be dying.'

'The potion needs its last few steps completed,' he said simply. 'It should be completely ready in two weeks now.'

I sighed, and nodded. I would be so glad when I came back after Christmas. New Potions partner, no more stupid assignment. I would be able to go _days_ without seeing him again.

I turned to go back up to Gryffindor Tower, hoping to get more sleep. But a hand had closed around my wrist and tugged me back.

'I want to talk to you,' Malfoy said seriously. I smirked.

'I'm so sorry, but I have a prior engagement,' I murmured, yanking my hand away. He scowled.

'I _need_ to talk to you then, about Bouilloire.'

I stopped then and spun to face him. 'Do you know something?' I demanded. He seemed glad to have gotten my attention.

'Not here,' he said softly, eyeing the other students around us. 'Let's go somewhere more private.'

--

A few moments later, in an empty classroom, he rounded on me. I was quite surprised, I'd thought _I'd_ be the one questioning him.

'So, who is he really?' Malfoy demanded. I stared at him in disbelief.

'What? He's Bouilloire. I thought you'd-'

'I mean _who is he_? What's he _doing_ here?' he snapped agitatedly. 'What's his connection to your kettle, and, and, his connection to _you_,' he waved his hand impatiently.

'What are you on about? It was _you_ who told me he had a connection to Kettle, and you told me that you knew everything that was going on!' I exclaimed.

'That was just because I couldn't stand your damn over-self-confidence!' he cried. 'You're always acting like you know everything. Well you _don't_, and sometimes you need to be put in your place. Which is _at the bottom_.'

I glared at him and turned to stomp out of the classroom. If he didn't know anything, I wasn't going to stand here and be insulted. Lord knows he insults me enough anyway.

'Oh, Merlin,' he muttered. 'Don't go, I still have-'

'Shut UP Malfoy,' I snapped, and I jerked the door handle roughly.

It didn't open.

There was a high pitched cackle, and to both Malfoy and my surprise Peeves materialized right behind us.

'Are the ickle kiddy-kins locked in?' he jeered. 'Can't get out? Stuck?'

'Peeves,' Malfoy said, his voice low and dangerous. 'Open – The – Door.'

'Shan't,' Peeves said impishly, 'shan't, shan't, shan't, shan't, shan't!'

'I'll tell the Bloody Baron!' Malfoy threatened. Peeves snorted.

'And just how will you tell him if you can't leave the room?'

'_Alohamora_!' I cast the spell on the door with all my might, but it didn't so much as twitch.

'It's not locked,' Peeves sniggered. 'It's _jammed_.'

I seized the handle with both hands and tugged and rattled it about as hard as I could. Peeves started cackling out of control at my frantic efforts.

'Don't let me be stuck in a room with _them_!' Malfoy and I both cried at the same time. We stared at each other in surprise, before glaring back at Peeves.

The poltergeist pouted. 'Alright,' he said sulkily. 'I'll let you out.'

He floated towards the door, and mimed opening it. He then began to step through the wood as if it didn't exist.

'Hey! Wait!' Malfoy cried, leaping for him. 'Peeves!'

The cackle reverberated through the door and all around the room as Peeves disappeared completely. Malfoy and I were alone.

'Great,' I muttered, 'just great.'

I slumped onto the floor. And to think barely fifteen minutes before I'd been lying in bed glad to have a morning all to myself.

I realized Malfoy had come to stand next to me. I looked up at him, surprised.

His face had a concentrated expression, blue/grey eyes slightly narrowed. His thin face was flushed slightly at the cheeks. I'd noticed that about Malfoy, he was really delicate. And he didn't go red, like Ron and his family, instead he blushed daintily across his nose and cheeks.

'What?' I asked nervously, fiddling with my wand.

'Tell me who he is.'

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair agitatedly. 'I already told you, _I don't know_.'

'But you have to!' his voice had taken on a whining tone. 'And I know you must know _something_. Even if he hasn't told you, you're smart enough to figure it out.'

'Smart?' I stared at him blankly. 'Malfoy, was that just a hidden compliment?'

He looked embarrassed – yes, _embarrassed_ – and scowled at me. 'No, it was a blatant one. And barely one, at that, I was just stating a fact.'

'_You_ think _I'm_ smart!' I laughed. '_That's_ a laugh riot, that is.'

'Stop changing the subject!' he cried. 'Just tell me!'

'Look, Malfoy, in all honesty. Even if I _did_ know something, there's nothing you could do to make me tell you. I like Bouilloire a whole lot more than I like you, and that's where my loyalty lies.'

'Bloody Gryffindor's,' he growled. 'All think you're so righteous.'

He groaned and sunk onto the ground too, so we were facing each other with the door in between us. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he pulled a disapproving face.

'So, you don't know anything either?' I asked eventually. He shook his head.

'But what you said fitted and everything,' I protested. 'Like how he was always empty, and that telling one of them something was the same as telling them both. Because he always had this weird knack of knowing everything that was going on, even things that were said when he wasn't around.'

He didn't' say anything, and continued to glare intensely at a wall. I sighed and buried my face in my knees.

'I guess I'm back to square one,' I whispered.

--

We were eventually let out when Nearly Headless Nick's ghost floated through the wall, and consequently through me. I walked around in a daze for the rest of the day, feeling cold and shivery. Ron joked that it was an allergic reaction to spending too much time with Malfoy, but Hermione said it was just the shock of having a ghost float through you.

The week passed quickly. I followed a steady pattern; Classes, looking for Kettle, working on the potion with Malfoy. Hermione was doing her best to try and find out exactly what Kettle was and why someone would want him.

As for me, I ended up staying awake until odd hours reading books about charmed items. I found out that Kettle's spell must have been really complicated, as usually charmed kettles don't have such a layered and life-like personality.

I would sit by the window every night, reading by the blue light of the moon and a candle. It had taken a long while for me to adjust to the whole no-power thing at Hogwarts, but I was getting better.

But in sitting by the window, I would often begin staring out at the grounds. Snow still coated the ground, and the still whiteness looked both alluring and terrifying. The silence it accompanied always sent a shiver down my spine and filled me with a sense of thrill.

On the second night, as I was staring and trying to find a word that exactly described the motion of snow falling, I spotted people in the snow. I realized I'd seen them before, a couple of nights ago while I'd been contemplating life. I wondered at what they were doing, all they ever seemed to do was walk in circles, leaving a trail of footprints behind them.

There were at least four of them, and they wore Hogwarts uniforms, I was sure. Were they students? I frowned at them. _What_ were they doing?

Over the next week, I continued to see them. One of them – a girl, I was sure – liked to dance and spin on some nights. Other nights they seemed to practice spells, shooting colored sparks up into the air. I squinted at their faces and tried to find out who they were.

Eventually my curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to find out who they were. I put my book down and dressed quickly and quietly, wondering if I should wake Hermione.

I crept over to her bed and peered at her. She was sleeping deeply, and I noticed a book called '_Charmed Objects and their Warped _Personalities' clutched in her hand. She must've been reading it before she fell asleep, trying to figure out Kettle's disappearance. I decided to leave her.

As soon as I left the castle I wished I hadn't come. The snow was freezing me to the bone, and I'd forgotten gloves. I narrowed my eyes determinedly against the cold and pulled my cloak closer around me before trudging through the snow.

It wasn't long before I could see them. I snuck towards them through the trees on the edge of the forest. The wind carried the sound of laughter to me, and I recognized a cool, clear voice.

'Pansy, _what_ are you doing?' Malfoy drawled.

'I'm being Harry Potter of course,' she sniggered. 'Oh! Someone save me!' She swooned dramatically, and one of the other Slytherin boy's caught her before she fell. I recognized him as Blaise Zabini.

'Don't worry Harry, I'm sure my hair and my muggle-loving father will scare away any enemies. No one shall disturb this deep love that we share!'

The group sniggered at the bad impression of Ron. I clenched my fists agitatedly and crawled closer. I managed to find a comfortable place in the foliage near them. It was very wet and cold, but I wanted to hear what they were saying anyway. I peered at them. Pansy and Blaise were hugging and laughing.

'What are we even out here for?' another voice asked. I guess it was another Slytherin. 'All we ever do is come out and make fun of Potter, Granger, Weasley… and that other one, the one you always talk about, Draco.'

'Fissure?' he snorted. 'I do not always talk about her.'

'You do,' Pansy retorted. '"That girl is so stubborn", "I can't believe how stupid she is!". You're always whining about her, or telling me the latest idiot-Gryffindor thing she's done. I think you _like_ her, Draco.'

I peered at Malfoy through the leaves. He was scowling at her ferociously. I felt disappointed – this isn't what I'd expected. I'd thought they'd be normal people having fun that I could join in. Harry-bashing wasn't really my idea of a good time. And why on earth were they calling Malfoy 'Draco'? Was it some sort of stupid overly-macho nickname?

I sighed and decided to return to Gryffindor Tower. I was soaked through and shivering and had nothing to gain by staying. I wanted to sit by the fire and warm myself again.

I looked to check where they were, and in the instance I did Malfoy's eyes locked on mine. I froze and stayed completely still, could he see me?

He didn't react in anyway, and when Pansy spoke to him again he continued to act as if nothing had happened. My heart was doing back flips and almost breaking my ribs in it's fright. I took deep breaths to calm myself, and slowly slunk away.

One part of the castle was between the Slytherins and myself I left the safety of the trees. I scowled angrily and pulled my sodden cloak around my shoulders. Stubborn and stupid, was I? Was that all he thought about me?

Suddenly something hard hit the back of my head, and I fell flat on my face. I rolled over quickly and stared at my attacker.

Malfoy stood there, tossing another snowball up in his hand. He smirked at me.

'Spying, were you Fissure?' he sneered. I glared.

'Not intentionally,' I snapped. 'It's not like you lot ever have anything interesting to say anyway.'

He walked closer, still smirking. I turned and began to trudge back to the castle. His friends were probably making a hugely noticeable racket and I didn't want to get landed with another detention with Malfoy and the rest of his Slytherin gang.

'You're just mad because of what Pansy said, aren't you?' he asked, walking beside me.

'No, what did Pansy say?' I asked innocently. He scowled at me.

'I know you heard.'

'Well, I didn't.'

He sighed and opened his mouth to say something. But I had sped up, not wanting to walk with him for any longer than I had to.

I reached the castle door and reached out to yank the handle when it suddenly began to open all by itself. I stared at it in surprise, my heart in my throat. Looks like I'd be getting detention anyway.

A hand grabbed the back of my cloak and yanked me away from the door, pulling me into a small alcove and out of sight of Filch, who had just exited the castle.

'He's going to catch Blaise and the others,' Malfoy whispered in my ear. I held my breath and tried to sink as far into the wall as possible.

'Fissure,' Malfoy hissed suddenly. 'You're crushing me. And we can leave, anyway.'

I leapt away from him and scowled, straightening my cloak. 'Goodnight Malfoy,' I said coolly.

'Goodnight, Lark,' he whispered with a smirk. I didn't even notice he'd used my first name until I got back to the common room, and I found myself wondering what _his_ first name was.

* * *

Author's Note:

I would have had chapters 17 and 18 up on Tuesday, except my internet committed suicide and I only JUST got it back now. So I'll quickly post these chapters. I'm in the middle of chapter twenty, and I have over 30,000 words :D


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

At breakfast the next morning, I recounted to Hermione, Ron and Harry the events of last night. Hermione was disappointed I hadn't woken her and Ron was overjoyed at the news that a whole group of Slytherins had landed themselves with a detention. Harry was staring blankly at the castle doors, his spoon halfway to his mouth.

'You alright?' Ron asked, waving his hand in front of his eyes. 'Harry? You look like you just saw-'

'Bouilloire,' Harry said suddenly. Ron, Hermione and I spun around and stared along with the rest of the castle.

In the doorway stood Bouilloire, looking just as he had on Halloween, minus the dress robes. I gaped as he walked calmly through the silence to the teachers table. Dumbledore smiled and bowed his head at him before standing.

'Students,' he called, 'it is my _great_ pleasure to announce the arrival of yet another student to the great halls of Hogwarts. Bouilloire Garçon will be joining us as of now.' He turned to Professor McGonagall beside him, 'Minerva, could you fetch the Sorting Hat?'

'I can't believe it's him!' Lavender squealed from across the table. 'Do you think he'll remember me?'

'Lark! Lark, he's looking _right at you_!' Hermione whispered.

'He looks like he's got his head up his arse if you ask me,' Ron muttered.

'Well no one _did_, Ron,' I snapped without taking my eyes of Bouilloire. He'd finally come, and just like he'd promised.

'What house do you think he'll be in?' Hermione asked excitedly.

'Gryffindor,' Parvati said firmly from her seat next to Lavender. 'He's brave, and dashing… the _perfect_ hero. And all heroes are in Gryffindor.' She cast an admiring look at Harry.

'He might be a Ravenclaw,' Hermione suggested. 'He seems very intelligent.'

'Gryffindor,' Lavender said, backing up Parvati.

Hermione frowned slightly, 'I know it's highly likely –'

'I think Gryffindor, too,' I murmured, still staring at him. No one said anything further on the matter.

Professor McGonagall had returned with the Hat. She sat Bouilloire on the stool and placed it on his head.

A minute or two passed, in which it seemed Bouilloire and the Sorting Hat had an in-depth conversation.

And all of a sudden the seam on the hat's brim opened up, and it bellowed in a loud voice, 'Slytherin!'

There was a stunned silence from both Gryffindor and Slytherin while Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw provided polite applause. Gryffindor had been so sure they had been going to get him and Slytherin had never considered that they _might_ get him.

'_Slytherin_?!' I hissed, 'It's got to be a mistake!'

The hall watched as Bouilloire – rather unceremoniously – shoved the hat into Professor McGonagall's arms and slouched his way to the Slytherin table. His eyes searched for mine, and seemed to apologize.

'Oh no,' Lavender wailed. 'There's _no way_ I'm going out with a _Slytherin_!'

--

After Breakfast I walked out of the hall in a daze, and leant against the wall. Hermione, Ron and Harry all rushed up the stairs after me, thinking I'd gone up. I hadn't meant to trick them, but still, it worked to my advantage.

'Bouilloire?' I murmured when he came rushing out. He spun, and his face broke into a huge smile when he saw me.

'Lark!' he cried, grabbing me in a giant hug that attracted stares from everyone around. 'It's been _so_ long! Not hearing your voice was really hard, but now! And, oh, how you must have worried…'

'Worried?' I asked, not really struggling too much to get away. 'Why would I worry?'

He ignored me however and hugged me tightly again. 'Still, I'm sorry about getting into Slytherin,' he said softly.

'How on _earth_ did that happen?' I asked, my voice taking on a slight whine. 'It _must_ be a mistake!'

'It's not,' he said gravely. 'The hat said I was far too sly to go in any other house. It was hell-bent on putting me in Slytherin. There was nothing I could say to change that.'

'Really?' I gaped. 'You mean, even if you really don't want to go in a house..?'

He shook his head. 'Mostly it'll listen to you, I guess, if it really agrees. But, he obviously strongly disagreed with my wish to be in Gryffindor. He said that my one reason to be had nothing to do with my character at all.'

'And what reason was that?' I asked curiously.

'Why, to be with you of course,' he said as if it were obvious. I flushed bright red and he released me.

'Sorry,' he said in his familiar soft voice. 'I… I missed you.'

'A-_hem_.'

We turned to find Malfoy leaning against the wall, watching us with a smirk.

'Well, when you two are finished canoodling, I've been asked to take Garçon to Slytherin House.'

I hastily stepped away from Bouilloire, I hadn't realized we'd been standing so close.

'I'll see you later,' I murmured, shooting Malfoy a glare. Bouilloire grabbed my hand before I could go far.

'As soon as possible, I don't want to spend any more time away from you than I need,' he said earnestly, his eyes honest. I flushed and nodded, speechless.

Malfoy made gagging noises behind us, so with one last smile at Bouilloire, and a glare at Malfoy, I departed for the Gryffindor Common room, knowing what awaited me there.

--

'Lark!' Lavender shrieked as soon as I entered. 'Hermione and Ron and Harry have been searching for you frantically, they seem convinced you're going to throw yourself off the Divination Tower!'

'Oh, is that where they've gone?' I asked quickly.

'No, they just went upstairs to leave you a note in case you came back.'

I thanked her and ran up the stairs. Throw myself off a tower because of a boy? Please, someone give me a little more credit!

'Hey guys I'm – Hang on, how are Harry and Ron in here?'

Hermione dropped the quill and stared at Ron and Harry in awe. 'Wh-what? I, I don't know, but Lark! Are you-'

'Yes,' I said honestly, 'yes I'm fine. It doesn't change who he is, anyway.'

They exchanged a relieved look, and I waved my hand at Harry and Ron. 'But how did you guys get up here?' I asked again.

'I don't know,' Hermione squeaked. 'We didn't' even think about it, we just… ran up.'

Parvati came into the room and froze when she saw Harry and Ron. 'What are you doing in here? How'd you get up the stairs?' she asked, confused.

'We don't know!' Harry exclaimed. 'Has anyone ever actually tried to get in here before?'

'Fred and George have,' Ron said glumly. 'They wanted to put dung bombs in the rooms.'

'What happened?' I asked, not surprised it had been them.

'The stairs turned into a ramp, and they slid all the way to the bottom.'

'Maybe it doesn't think Ron and Harry are boys, I mean, Ron's hair is long enough,' Parvati giggled. Ron glared at her.

'Maybe it's broken?' I suggested. Hermione shook her head.

'Spells don't break. It let them up here for a reason… maybe…'

'Yes?' we asked as Hermione trailed off.

'Maybe it's because they came up here because they were worried, because they had 'good intentions', or something. That's why they could get in. I mean, it would explain why Professor McGonagall can go in the boys dorms,' she said.

'Quite the contrary, actually,' Ron muttered, 'when all she comes up there to do is tell us off.'

I grinned at Hermione. Thank god for friends like her.

We headed out a while later. Hermione needed to go to the library to get a book for our transfiguration homework and I wanted to look for Bouilloire. Ron and Harry grudgingly agreed to come along.

We arrived just in time to see Malfoy and Bouilloire get thrown out by a very agitated Madame Pince.

'Raise voices amongst my books? It is not on! There is _no talking_ in here, let alone yelling and spells! And you, Mr. Malfoy, had better watch out. If I catch you one more time, whether it's with Mr. Garçon or Miss Fissure, I will give you a _detention_!'

'We'll meet you back out here,' Hermione said as she, Harry and Ron all entered the library. I grinned and turned away.

'Hullo Malfoy, Bouilloire,' I said cheerfully, skipping over to them. 'Why the long faces?'

Malfoy scowled at me and jerked his thumb at Bouilloire, who was grinning radiantly at me. 'The French Floozy got us thrown out because he was yelling,' Malfoy sneered.

'You were the one who provoked me,' Bouilloire growled. 'And I'm not French.'

'Alright,' I tried to interject.

'And then you tried to _hex_ me!' Malfoy cried, I glared at him.

'Now Malfoy,' I said crossly, 'there's no way Bouilloire would-'

'He did!' he said hotly, scowling at Bouilloire. 'But of _course_ you'd side with your boyfriend over your Potions partner.

'He's not my boyfriend,' I snapped, flushing bright red. 'But yes, I would probably side with anyone over you.'

He scowled and turned away. 'Come on then, Garçon, I have to finish showing you around.'

'I better go,' Bouilloire said, smiling kindly at me. I felt my heart do funny little back flips in my throat and I nodded. Still, it weirded me out how Bouilloire could be viciously angry one moment and so serene and calm the next. And had he really hexed Malfoy..?

'Alright, just don't… just ignore things he says,' I said nervously, giving a small wave. He laughed.

'Usually I would, but I couldn't ignore what he said just then.'

'Why, what did he say?' I asked curiously.

'Something about you,' Bouilloire said with a soft smile, before waving and following Malfoy down the corridor.

* * *

Author's Note:

These two are disgustingly short, and for that I apologize. The chapters start to get longer after this though, I promise.

Anyway. It's the return of Bouilloire:D

Hope you are enjoying. Again, Sorry for my absence!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen**

I was more than overjoyed to have Bouilloire finally at Hogwarts. We spent almost every spare moment together, and all we needed to do was talk. We never argued, and he rarely even raised his voice at others when I was there. He seemed to be trying really hard to control his temper.

'I'm so glad we're together now,' he murmured softly as we all sat in the library doing our homework. I heard Ron snigger and I flushed. He said that a lot, but what did he mean by 'together'? Did he just mean with each other, or did he mean together like a couple?

'It's nice to know you, too,' I whispered back, grinning. He smiled.

'Oh, get a room,' Hermione snapped. 'I'm _trying_ to work!'

I was still worried about Kettle. _Did_ Bouilloire have something to do with him, like I'd been told by both the kettle itself and Malfoy? Even though Malfoy had admitted he was lying about it, I still found the explanation credible.

And if Bouilloire did know something about Kettle, would he tell me? I didn't like being kept in the dark, and I was starting to wonder if anyone was actually going to bring him back. I missed his snide remarks and his general Kettle-ness. I had him to thank for getting me here, of course. Without him, I would still be at home selling chocolates for my school.

At that moment Malfoy came into the library, and having spotted us he began to walk over. I groaned and scowled at him. 'Someone kill me now.'

'Fissure,' he said sounding slightly breathless. 'The potion, is ready, we need to complete it. Now,' he added when I slumped onto the table.

'Alright, I'm coming,' I grumbled, looking at Hermione apologetically.

'Lark!' she exclaimed. 'You _can't_ go, you've still got an essay to do for Charms, remember!'

'But this is for Potions-'

'Just make Malfoy do it,' Ron muttered.

'Where are you going? And why are you going with _him_?' Bouilloire asked, looking puzzled and shooting Malfoy death glares.

'None of your business,' Malfoy said suddenly, grabbing my arm and yanking me away.

'I'll catch up later Hermione, I promise!' I called back quickly. Bouilloire watched us leave with a peculiar expression on his face. He looked like he was almost jealous.

'You didn't have to drag me away,' I snapped at Malfoy. He scowled.

'Well no offence but I don't like to spend any more time with those _people_ than I have to.'

'Then why did you volunteer to be Bouilloire's mentor?'

'I didn't, I was picked for it,' he drawled. 'Why on earth would _I_ want to show anyone else anything?'

He had re-hidden the cauldron in the cupboard in Professor Binn's classroom, using a simple charm to make it hard to notice. We emptied the potion into vials and shared them out, labeling four as mine and four as his.

'So, I can go now?' I asked hopefully wondering if I could still catch the others in the library. And did this mean no more extra time with Malfoy? He noticed my hopeful expression and smirked.

'No, we have more questions to answer,' he said, indicating a piece of parchment. My face fell and he laughed.

'What's the matter, want to run back to Garçon's arms? Can't stand to be apart?'

'I'd rather be with him than you,' I snapped. He cocked an eyebrow.

'Yes, I guess so.'

I realized he'd dragged me away from the library without any of my things. I didn't have any parchment, quills or ink.

'Lend me a quill and some parchment, then,' I said angrily, slumping onto the desk next to him. He scowled slightly but slid some over anyway.

'I've only got one inkwell though, if you don't mind sharing,' he muttered in a tone that clearly showed _he_ minded.

About halfway through the questions, Malfoy placed his quill down softly. I decided to ignore him, and instead leant across his work to dip my quill in the inkwell.

'Ahem,' he said. I looked at him over my shoulder before withdrawing.

'Something the matter?' I asked, continuing to write.

'So, has he told you yet?'

'Has who told me what?'

'Has Garçon told you anything about your kettle?' his voice was slightly agitated, as if I should know _exactly_ what was going on in his mind. Which, mind you, would be sort of nice.

'Oh, no, he hasn't,' I said stiffly. I kept meaning to bring it up with him, but was reluctant to do so. Kettle had said he wasn't allowed to talk about it, so maybe Bouilloire wasn't either? And would he get mad at me if I did ask? He was fearsome when he yelled at others, and the thought of him yelling at me was terrifying.

'He hasn't told you _anything_?' Malfoy's voice was mystified. 'But, he's been here quite a few days now. And he hasn't told you? I was sure he would, since it was your kettle and you were so worried about it, and you _are_ his girlfriend-'

'I'm _not_ his girlfriend,' I said through gritted teeth. 'Now kindly leave me be. I still have to answer this questions on the properties-'

'You're _basically_ his girlfriend, the way he touches you,' Malfoy's tone was sarcastic and scathing. I scowled at him.

'And it's none of your _business_ what I do with Bouilloire,' I snapped.

'Is too,' he retorted, 'if I have to stand around watching it. Besides, you don't even know him. He could be a complete psycho-'

'Oh, like _you_, you mean?'

'No! What I'm trying to say is, well. You've seen it yourself, his temper.'

'It's not as bad as yours.'

He growled and pushed my hand away as I tried to dip it in the inkwell. 'I'm not joking, Fissure. For all you know, dark wizards could have kidnapped your kettle-'

'Dark wizards plotted to kidnap my _kettle_?' It was my turn to be sarcastic. 'I'm sorry Malfoy, I know that of all people you would know _best_ what the dark wizards plan to do, but I think that's a bit over the top. Bouilloire is the _last_ person to be a dark wizard, let alone the kind that goes around kidnapping _kettles_!'

'You didn't expect him to be in Slytherin, either, did you?' he demanded. 'And what is it all you Gryffindors say? "Slytherins are as rotten as they come," and the like. Is Bouilloire exempt from this rule because you already liked him?'

'Of course,' I answered. 'He's not like any of you anyway, it's a mistake he's in Slytherin.'

'The Sorting Hat doesn't make mistakes.'

'Well _this time_ it did!' My voice was rising in pitch. He was so _frustrating_! What did he have against Bouilloire anyway?

'So what you're saying is, if you'd met me without knowing what house I was in, you'd like me?' he asked, eyes flashing.

'I could _never_ like you!' I cried fiercely. 'You are THE most unpleasant person I have _ever_ met! You pick on people for absolutely no reason at all, you're cowardly, you hate everything that isn't the way you like it! You're perfectly _putrid_ in every aspect!'

I stopped, breathing heavily. Malfoy's face was closed and expressionless, except for his eyes. Within which I could see a severe hatred burning. And something else, there was an almost _wounded_ look, as well.

He stood abruptly, and snatching up his bag he glared at me with his smoldering blue eyes.

'_You_ are just as guilty as me, if not worse,' he hissed. Then he turned and marched toward the door without looking back.

'Wait, Malfoy,' I began weakly. The look in his eyes made me feel terrible, and the guilt was already eating away at me. 'Wait, your… your quill, I,'

He slammed the door behind him, and I was left in the silence of the room, wondering why on earth I felt so terrible, when he definitely deserved it.

Didn't he?

--

I was miserable as I walked back. I hated feeling like I'd done the bad thing, when I was sure I hadn't. Well, not completely sure. I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Bouilloire was keeping secrets from me, Kettle was missing, homework was piling up and I'd just said some hurtful things to a boy whom I hated. The misery churned in my gut making me feel ill.

'It's that _Fissure_ girl's fault.'

The voice was filled with malice and conviction, and I recognized it as the Slytherin girl Pansy Parkinson. I stopped in my tracks and peered around the corner of the corridor. She was walking down towards me with another Slytherin girl, Millicent Bullstrode.

'What's she done?' Millicent asked.

'She's filling his head with strange ideas of course,' Pansy snapped. 'Don't you notice the way he is after he sees her? He's always agitated and easily frustrated. And then he's obsessed with finding out about that kettle of hers.'

'Malfoy's hardly the type to be moved by the things a silly Gryffindor would say.'

'I know! But, maybe she's cast a charm on him to make him think of her.'

'They hate each other, though. I heard him saying it earlier today. How stubborn she is. And she definitely hates him, after all, he _is_ a Slytherin.'

'All the same,' Pansy insisted, 'he _is_ acting peculiar. The last straw was volunteering to mentor Fissure's boyfriend, that Garçon boy. He said he needed to keep an eye on him, but for _what_?'

I flattened myself against the wall as they passed in the next corridor. My mind was reeling, so Malfoy _had_ volunteered to look after Bouilloire! But what did they mean by 'to keep an eye on him'? Unless it had to do with Malfoy's suspicion that Bouilloire was a dark wizard after my kettle.

'Lark?'

I jumped and turned to find Bouilloire approaching me, a worried look on his face. 'What are you doing just standing there? Are you alright?'

I exhaled forcibly and managed a nod. 'Yes, I'm fine,' I insisted, putting on a brave face. 'I just, I had a fight with Malfoy, and…'

'Malfoy?' Bouilloire's voice was filled with rage. 'Where has he gone? Did he hurt you? He's just the type to hex someone who looked at him funny-'

'No, no, it's okay,' I said quickly, 'he's gone. Besides, he didn't do anything to me.'

Bouilloire cocked his head quizzically. 'Didn't do anything to you?'

I sighed and nodded. 'I'm sorry, I don't really feel like talking about it just yet,' I said quietly. He understood immediately, thank goodness, and slipped an arm around my shoulders, steering me in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

'Anyway, the others have headed back to the common room because Madame Pince closed the library. You'll feel better once you've sat in front of the fire for a while.'

I nodded, and found myself leaning my head on his shoulder as we walked. I was so exhausted, I felt that if I went to sleep I wouldn't wake up for a whole week.

_'He hasn't told you _anything_?'_

Malfoy's words floated into my mind and I bit my lip, pulling away from Bouilloire.

'Sorry, I'm just, I'm tired,' I murmured, managing a lop-sided smile. He just smiled in an understanding way and nodded, though his eyes were full of concern.

How much of it was real? Who was he _really_? And where was my kettle? I felt tears in my eyes and hurriedly brushed them away, before shrugging off Bouilloire's comforting hand.

'I'm fine,' I muttered. 'I'll see you tomorrow.' I walked off quickly, leaving him behind.

'Bye,' I heard him call unsurely. I bit back a sob and quickened my pace.

Hermione, Harry and Ron were all still in the common room when I arrived, along with several other Gryffindors. They all jumped in surprise when I stumbled in.

'Lark, what's the matter?' Hermione asked quickly.

'Was it Malfoy?' Ron demanded. His words were like salt in a wound, and I felt fresh tears come to my eyes. I felt so ashamed, what would they say if I told them that it was actually _me_?

'If he did anything,' Harry warned.

At that moment a hand took mine, and my brother Luke winked at Harry, Ron and Hermione.

'Why don't you kids go off to bed,' he said softly. 'I reckon I can handle this.'

They regarded me worriedly before reluctantly agreeing.

Luke led me over to a couch and sat me down. Immediately I burst into fresh tears and sobbed onto his shoulder. I kept saying how there wasn't even anything much wrong, and he murmured comforting words. I wasn't sure what they were all the time, but they sounded soothing, and eventually my tears subsided and became hiccoughs, which also eventually faded.

'_Is_ it Malfoy?' he asked, after a few moments. I shook my head violently.

'What's the matter then?'

I bit my lip, but couldn't bring myself to tell him. My throat burned, and more tears came to my eyes.

'Alright, alright, I'm sorry,' he said quickly. 'Let's not talk about Malfoy then. Is there anything _else_ that's the matter?'

I calmed down and proceeded to tell him all about Kettle, and Bouilloire. I even managed to tell him about Malfoy's lie, and his current suspicion. He let out a laugh when I mentioned the dark wizard plot.

'Sorry, but that's just ridiculous,' he snorted. I found myself grinning and nodding.

'I know! Dark wizards out to steal my kettle?' Luke smiled at me and pinched my cheek.

'See? That's a nice smile. As long as you have that smile, you're about ten times better than Malfoy is.'

'I'm not so sure about that,' I murmured weakly. Slowly, grudgingly, I told him about what I'd said. And to my surprise, he laughed.

'Is that what you're worried about?' he said, smiling. 'Lark, Malfoy needs to know he can't push everyone around like he does. Standing up to him like that is perfectly alright.'

'But, maybe I shouldn't have said it quite so…'

'If it makes him listen, then you've got nothing to worry about. Besides, with luck he might never speak to you again. Wouldn't that be a bonus?' I laughed and nodded vigorously. Luke's expression turned serious again, though.

'And with Bouilloire… well, you don't _know_ that he's got something to do with Kettle. From the way it sounds, it sounds like your kettle is off his rocker anyway, and not very reliable.'

'He is not,' I said in Kettle's defense, before I could stop myself.

'Either way,' Luke said firmly. 'It's no reason to judge Bouilloire. Until he actually does something wrong, you should just let it be. And if he wants to tell you something, he will. But like Malfoy said, you _have_ only just met him. He _could_ be anyone.'

I nodded, and he hugged me. 'Thank you Luke,' I mumbled into his shirt. I felt him laugh.

'You always were one to get in funny bits of trouble,' he joked affectionately. I made a face and poked his nose.

'Anyway, I better let Ron and the others know.' I stood up and went to run upstairs, when I noticed Ron, Harry and Hermione all huddled behind the couch. Ron's face turned bright red, and Hermione's cheeks flushed pink.

'Um, you see,' Harry stumbled.

'We were looking for my quill,' Hermione announced. Ron's ears turned pink.

'I guess it saves having to repeat myself,' I said, giving them disapproving looks.

'Sorry,' they said guiltily.

'You'll just have to get me a _really_ good Christmas present,' I announced teasingly. 'Now, stop worrying, and let's all go to bed.'

'Good idea,' Luke said with an air of finality, before ushering us all into our separate dorms.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Blugh, I've been struggling again. I apologize for taking so long.

But I came to a conclusion. Even if the story was horrible, even if it didn't make sense or anything, I'm just writing this for fun. I enjoy it. Every word is a little piece of me.

I hope you guys like it, too.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty**

'Check and mate!' Ron announced. Hermione frowned at the board, before throwing her head back and looking at him haughtily.

'It's a silly game, anyway,' she said decidedly. Ron grinned.

'You're just saying that because I beat you,' he teased. Her cheeks grew hot and she glared at him.

'Will you quit bickering?' Bouilloire snapped, bent over his Charms essay. Ron and Hermione jumped. It was rare for him to snap at any of us, but he'd been really stressed with a huge mass of 'catch up' homework the teachers had dumped on him.

I looked around the great hall. It was almost time for the Christmas holidays, and in about a week most of the students would be gone. Harry, Ron and Hermione were all going to Ron's place. I'd been invited, but had declined. Mum and Dad were bursting to see me, and Luke and Harry were being made to come home as well.

I noticed Harry sitting over on the Ravenclaw table, chatting to some of the students there. I recognized the white-haired girl he'd gone to the dance with, and found myself chuckling.

'Who's Harry talking to?' I asked Ron. He glanced over at him and grimaced.

'Luna Lovegood. She's mad.' His tone conveyed a small feeling of dislike. 'I mean, she is _completely_ batty.'

'She is,' Hermione agreed, which was strange. Generally she didn't like it when Ron said people were mad.

'What'd she do?' Bouilloire asked, looking up from his work curiously.

'Her father is the editor of the Quibbler,' Ron explained.

'Oh,' Bouilloire said looking over at her disapprovingly. 'I see.'

'What's..?' I began.

'The Quibbler?' Hermione finished. 'It's a magazine full of _ridiculous_ ideas that simply make no sense.'

'It's_ rubbish_,' Bouilloire added.

'Mental, that's what she is,' Ron concluded.

'She looks nice enough,' I said, watching her laugh at something Harry had said, before making a peculiar face. I noticed her earrings were great big fat caterpillars and – hang on, were they moving?

As I watched, Harry took her hand and motioned to the front door. She nodded, and together they stood and left. Harry waved goodbye to us, a huge grin on his face.

'They're both mental then,' Ron decided when I told him.

'Do you think Harry likes her?' Hermione asked him. He shrugged.

'I dunno. Bit silly though, if you ask me.'

'How do you mean?' I said.

'Getting together right before the holidays, I mean. Then you have to go away from each other for a while, and get them a present and everything.' He made a face. 'I hate buying presents for girls.'

Hermione snorted. 'Not that you've had much experience.'

'I have too,' he retorted. 'Besides, that wasn't the point. I just think that to ask her out _right_ before Christmas, when he doesn't even know her…' he trailed off.

'He does know her,' Bouilloire said without looking away from his essay. 'He's been meeting her all term, ever since the dance. They're always walking down by the lake together.'

'What?!' Ron, Hermione and I cried in unison. 'How do you know?'

He shrugged. 'They have. They seem rather fond of each other too.' He looked up, and his eyes met mine briefly. 'And I think it's great to get together with someone right before Christmas, it's such a romantic season.'

I looked away, trying to hide my flushed cheeks. My eyes caught a pair of blue/grey ones across the room, though Malfoy quickly looked away. I sighed dejectedly. I had Potions with him tomorrow.

--

'Is it true then?' Lavender demanded as we entered the common room, 'about Harry and that Lovegood girl?'

'Eh, is what true?' I asked, baffled.

'That they're going out!' Parvati cried exasperatedly. 'Everyone's talking about it!'

'I uh, I don't know –' I managed to choke out before Hermione tugged at my arm.

'We don't know. And it's none of your business anyway,' she told Parvati, not meaning to sound too harsh.

Ron had run off to confront Harry about the issue, as much as Hermione and I had tried to stop him. And when Bouilloire had given up on his homework, complaining that we were too loud, we decided we may as well return to the common room.

'I think Bouilloire likes you,' Hermione said as soon as we were in the dorm. I stared at her, surprised.

'Wh-what?' I squeaked.

'I think Bouilloire likes you,' she said again. 'I _really_ think he does.'

'He, I, I don't think, he hardly,' I fumbled for the right words. 'I hardly know him!' I burst out eventually.

She laughed and shrugged. 'You can't say you hadn't noticed,' she said. 'He treats you so nicely. I wish Ron would-'

She stopped speaking abruptly, and I saw she'd gone pink before she spun away and busied herself in her trunk.

'Hermione!' I said, with mock surprise in my voice. 'Do you mean to tell me that you li-'

'Shh!' she hissed, looking around edgily. 'Of course not.'

'You do too,' I said quickly. She went even redder. 'Hermione, you're positively florescent!'

'Shush! Don't, don't tease me!' she squealed. I grinned and shook my head.

'Hypocrite,' I murmured, she pulled a face at me.

'It's different for you, though. Ron doesn't, Ron, Ron _couldn't_… whereas Bouilloire, he obviously, already, I mean, whereas Ron…' she trailed off and then shrugged.

'I wouldn't be so sure of that, Hermione,' I said, patting her shoulder.

'I would be,' she said glumly with a grimace.

--

'Along with your partners, bring your vial to the front.'

There was a loud scraping of chairs being pushed back as we lined up in pairs to give Professor Snape our potions. Malfoy hadn't said a word to me all lesson, and I hadn't said anything to him. I found myself smiling involuntarily when I realized this was exactly what I'd wanted for a long time.

Snape sneered at the vials he had before him. I noticed a strange green smoke was emanating from one of the vials.

'I see that you, Longbottom, will be receiving a T as usual,' Snape said snidely, smirking at the vial. Neville flushed and his face took on its usual morose look.

'I hope I get a good mark,' Hermione worried as we left. I almost dropped my books as Malfoy shoved past us, taking care to jostle me even though the corridor was wide.

'Jerk,' I muttered, steadying myself and glaring after him. Bouilloire glowered at him too, before smiling at me.

'_You'll_ probably get a good mark,' he assured me. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

'Knowing Snape, he'll probably grade Malfloy's good and give me a Troll just because it's mine.'

'Oh will I?' Snape's amused voice came from behind me, making us all jump. I turned to face him nervously.

'H-Hi, Professor,' I murmured.

'You would do well to keep your voices down if you are going to make snide comments, Fissure,' he advised, smirking. 'And, five points off Gryffindor for badmouthing a teacher.'

I groaned as he stalked away. Bouilloire patted my shoulder.

'There, there. _I _have to live with him,' he joked.

'It's not funny, Ron,' Hermione hissed suddenly, stopping and glaring at Ron. Harry, Bouilloire and I all looked on in surprise, we hadn't known they'd been talking.

'No, Hermione, I-' Ron started.

'Shut up,' she snapped, before stalking away just as Snape had, her head held high and her manner brisk.

'What was that all about?' Harry's voice was full of wonderment. Ron looked just as bewildered.

'Bloody hell, _I_ don't know!' he said.

--

I wanted to go and find Hermione, but Bouilloire said that I should let Ron sort it out with her. So Ron ran off to find her, and we remained in the great hall.

'Hello, Harry,' a voice said. Harry's face lit up when he saw who it was.

'Hi Luna,' he said happily. 'Do you, erm, would you like to go for-'

'A walk around the lake? I'd be delighted,' she said, her eyes slightly unfocussed for a moment. I blinked at her a few times.

'Oh, right, Luna, this is Lark, and this is Bouilloire,' Harry indicated me and Bouilloire, 'they're my mates.'

'Hello,' Luna said distractedly. 'Doesn't the sky look lovely?'

'Erm, yes,' I said anxiously. And this was the girl that Harry..?

'Lark, would you like to go for a walk with me?' Bouilloire asked sweetly once Harry and Luna had said goodbye.

'Uh, okay,' I said unsurely. 'Are you sure that Ron and Hermione-'

'Yes,' he said impatiently. 'Quit worrying about them, just talk to me.'

He took my hand firmly, and lead me out of the hall. We walked quickly, as if we needed to put as much distance between ourselves and the hall as fast as we could.

Eventually, we slowed. We walked hand-in-hand through the corridors, looking at the portraits hung on the walls. It was peaceful, but I was distracted by the warm feel of Bouilloire's hand in mine.

'I'm happy to be here,' he said suddenly. 'With you, in the school.'

'Where were you before?' I asked curiously, wanting an insight into his life. His face darkened, however.

'Not in a nice place,' he murmured. 'My… parents… put me there. "For my own good" they said.'

I nodded slowly. I wasn't too familiar with the wizarding world, but perhaps he was talking about a school for 'bad kids' or something? He didn't seem to want to talk about it, either way.

'Why did you want to know?' he asked after a moment. I jumped slightly.

'I was just curious. You seem to know an awful lot about me, whereas I know nothing about you,' I admitted. He looked apologetic.

'I'm sorry, you're right. I guess I've known you longer than you've known me.'

'How, though?' The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. He looked troubled, but only for a moment.

'I'm, I'm not sure I'm quite ready… that… that _you're_ quite ready…' he trailed off, concentrating hard. Suddenly, he gave a laugh. 'What I mean to say, is, I'll tell you some day soon. I promise.'

'Okay,' I said slowly, returning the smile half-heartedly. I desperately wanted to ask him about Kettle, but I was worried he'd become angry if I continued probing.

'Something the matter?' he asked, squeezing my hand. I grimaced.

'I'm, sorry. Could, could I ask just _one_ more question?' I asked, realizing I was pleading. 'It's important to me, but you don't have to answer if-'

He stopped suddenly, and lifted a finger to brush some hair out of my eyes. 'Just ask. I wouldn't ever get cross with you,' he said softly. I went bright red, and opened and closed my mouth a few times.

'I, I, w-was, just wondering… if…' I swallowed painfully. 'If you knew anything about my kettle…' I finished in a small voice.

He stood up suddenly, giving me a curious look. 'Your kettle?'

'Yes, I… he was my… he's an enchanted Kettle. With, well, he can talk. And he went missing a while ago, got… stolen, I think. Maybe he ran away. But he mentioned knowing you, and you two are…' I paused for a moment. 'Well, you two are sort of similar,' I finished.

He grinned and laughed softly, shaking his head. 'Know a kettle? Sorry, I make it a habit not to befriend things that I can't see where they keep their brain.' He looked at me seriously. 'But, you should forget about the kettle, it was probably bewitched, rather than charmed. It had probably been working a spell on you.'

'Oh…' I said softly, disappointed. 'I guess you're right. I was just wondering.'

We continued walking, Bouilloire taking my hand again. He gave a small chuckle as we found our way back into the great hall.

'No, I don't know _any_ kettles,' he repeated softly, to himself.

* * *

As soon as Garçon and Fissure left, Malfoy quickly exited the great hall, almost running to his common room. He burst into the room he shared with Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and now Garçon, glad to find that they were all out. 

He walked over to Garçon's wardrobe, bed and trunk. He didn't bother being quiet, Garçon would be a while with Fissure, and anyone else who came in wouldn't protest.

Malfoy threw open the wardrobe doors and began probing around inside, taking care not to move things in a way he couldn't replace. Garçon would definitely suspect him if something was broken or misplaced obviously. He could easily get a first year to take the fall for him if Garçon went to the teachers, but it would be much simpler to avoid it altogether.

When the wardrobe yielded nothing, Malfoy replaced it all and moved onto the trunk. It too showed no sign of the Kettle. Just weird little knickknacks and assorted pieces of clothing and spellbooks. Next he checked under the mattress, and to his surprise he discovered a diary. A grin spread across his face and he wrenched the cover open.

The spell hit him full in the face, causing his head to snap backwards. He fell to the ground, releasing the diary and covering his face with his hands. Gently, he felt his nose, cheeks, forehead and mouth, before coming to the conclusion that nothing seemed visibly different. He stood, legs shaking, and stumbled over to a mirror, peeking in hesitantly.

Slicked blonde hair set and grey/blue eyes stared back apprehensively out of his thin, pale face. The eyes widened in surprised when they noticed what was written across his forehead, but was already slowly disappearing.

'_I am a thief._'

He touched a hand to his forehead, glad that it had gone. Garçon mustn't me a very good wizard if his jinxes wore off almost instantly. Malfoy dropped his hand back down, and then he brought it back up to eye level, staring at the back of it with horrified eyes.

'_I am a thief_.'

Just as before, the words faded again. Malfoy quickly checked his arms, his face and neck, and finally his ankles, where it was just fading away.

'_I am a thief_.'

He cursed his stupidity, he should have known the diary would be spelled. Walking back over to it, he picked it up gingery, afraid it would bite. When it didn't, he attempted opening it again. It was stuck shut, as if a giant weight was pressing the pages together. He sighed and replaced it under the mattress.

He hadn't found anything, and all he had was a weird spell on him, and he had no idea when it would wear off. He looked at his forearm glumly as the words faded away again.

As he turned to go, he heard a small cough. It had come from directly behind him, which was Garçon's bed. He spun on his heel and stared, putting his hands on his hips. The cough came again, along with an agitated mutter.

'…Always leaving me here. No respect… Should take me back to… I knew her first, after all.'

It was coming from _above_ the bed. Malfoy stepped up, using the pole of the four poster to balance, and looked on top of the canopy. To his surprise, Kettle sat directly in the center.

'Uh oh,' said Kettle, seeming to notice Malfoy. 'Oh no, oh no.'

'Hello, you lump of metal, I believe we have a few things to discuss,' Malfoy said with a smirk, reaching out and pulling Kettle towards him.

'Oh dear,' Kettle sighed, resigning himself to whatever new fate he had received.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask if people could refrain from second-guessing some of the plot points. I can't answer you, and I won't even if I can. You'll just have to wait and see what happens. :)

Anyway - Kettle is back! -dances-


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Chapter Twenty One**

As soon as I climbed off the train, I was met by my parents. My mother gushed over me, asking how I enjoyed school, and enquired as to whether I would prefer going back to my Muggle school or not. When I informed her firmly that I would _not_, she looked slightly disappointed.

'Oh well,' she sighed. 'I guess you were born a wizard, after all.'

It was the weirdest feeling, coming home and feeling so different. The last time I'd been here, I'd been so bewildered and slightly upset over the whole 'you're-a-witch-but-we-hid-it-from-you' issue.

I dumped my trunk in my room and looked around. The box of charity chocolates was still sitting on my desk and I wrinkled my face at it.

I changed into my old clothes and headed down to dinner. It felt so weird, like I'd gone back in time. I shivered as I entered the dining room, and immediately felt like I'd been hurtled forwards all over again.

There were candles floating all around the edges of the room, illuminating the generously filled plates and bowls of food on the table, which seemed to be groaning under all the weight. I gasped as my chair pulled itself out for me, and a banner snaked its way through the air above the table, reading "Welcome home kids!"

'It's brilliant!' I gasped, staring around with wide eyes. Mum beamed and looked around proudly.

'I figured, since you're aware of your heritage and magic, and all that, that we should have a proper dinner to welcome you home. Do you… like it?'

'It's _wonderful_!' I continued to stare around, noticing that the candles flames changed colour. 'It's, it's _magical_!'

'So Lark,' Dad asked as we started eating, 'did you learn any spells this year?'

I nodded excitedly. 'Lots, it was really hard at the start – oh but, you know because of my letters – but I got the hang of it eventually, thanks to Harry – that's my friend Harry, not my brother – Ron and Hermione – that's not to say my brother Harry didn't help at all, though – and Dumbledore is so clever, and Professor Snape is the _worst_ person I've _ever_ met, and there's a boy, Malfoy,'

'You met the Malfoy's boy?' my mother asked, surprised. 'I would have though you wouldn't have much to do with him at all.'

'That's Snape's fault.' I grimaced. 'He paired us up for a potions assignment, and I had to spend a lot of time with him.'

Mum patted my hand sympathetically, before exchanging a glance with my father. I noticed, and wondered what it was about.

'What?' I asked curiously. Mum looked at my brothers, and then back at me, then to my father.

'Well,' Dad started. 'Shortly after you left… well, the Murray's came to visit. And they… told us of a certain item that had gone missing from their house.'

I swallowed my mouthful with great difficulty. Kettle.

'Now dear,' Mum said carefully. 'We don't mean to lecture you, or blame you, but the Murray's are fairly… adamant… that the kettle should be returned to them. Okay?'

I stared at the tablecloth. Harry and Luke continued shoveling food awkwardly, trying to act like they had somehow gone temporarily deaf and couldn't hear.

'So,' Dad said in a manner that said the matter was final. 'Tomorrow will you take the kettle back to them?'

I continued to stare at the table. How was I going to tell them? I'd completely forgotten that Kettle belonged to the Murray's, and if they _really_ wanted him back… I bit my lip. I'd assumed it was just a kettle, I'd never even thought that it might be important.

'Lark,' Mum started, taking my hand supportively.

'I don't have it anymore,' I blurted, feeling ashamed. My parents started, and Luke and Harry exchanged a glance.

'It got… It got stolen from my room at school,' I explained. 'And, and I've been trying to get it back, and as soon as I do I'll return it. I promise,' I added hastily, seeing their disappointed expressions.

'That's alright Lark,' Dad said. 'I just… a thief in Hogwarts? When I was there…'

'It was Malfoy!' Harry blurted suddenly. 'I just know it was.'

'It was _not_!' I exclaimed. 'I already asked him and he-'

'He's a liar,' said Luke with conviction.

'He's _not_!'

'He _is_!' they both retorted. I scowled at them.

'Now, children,' Mum said, glancing at my father. 'We don't know _who_ it was. Did you tell a teacher, dear?' she directed the last part at me. I shook my head.

'Never mind,' Dad said when the boys opened their mouths again. 'We'll discuss this later. At the moment, let's just try to have a nice family dinner together.'

--

I stood on the Murray's doorstep, just like I had almost half a year ago. Mum and Dad had said they wouldn't come because it was my responsibility, but I felt like there was something else as well. Hadn't Dad mentioned a fight with the Murray's, once?

The door opened, and Mrs. Murray stared at me, genuinely surprised. I flushed and scuffed my foot on the doorstep.

'Hi,' I said softly.

'Come in,' she said, her tone slightly bewildered.

Next I found myself sitting on a sofa opposite her and Mr. Murray, holding a cup of boiling, sweet tea. I wasn't much of a tea-fan, but it had felt impolite to refuse.

'So, Lark, what brings you into our house..?' Mr. Murray asked in a tone that said he knew _exactly_ why I was here.

'Again,' Mrs. Murray added.

'Um, I came… with regards to… your… kettle,' I finished feebly.

'Ah,' Mr. Murray said, exchanging a glance with Mrs. Murray.

'You see,' I said weakly. 'I, lost it.'

There was a moment of silence. Mrs. Murray leant forwards and placed her teacup on the small table in front of her.

'You, lost it..?' Mr. Murray asked, his voice tight and barely composed. I nodded dejectedly.

Mrs. Murray stood up suddenly. 'It's alright, George,' she said, as though she was actually reassuring herself. She began to walk back and forth worriedly.

'I'm sorry,' I whispered. Mr. Murray glanced at me and sighed, before motioning for his wife to come sit by him again.

'That's alright, Lark. I guess, we're just very attached to that kettle. It's been with us for a long time now.'

'Nine years,' Mrs. Murray said stiffly.

'If it makes you feel better, he was having a good time before he was stolen,' I said hesitantly.

'Stolen?' Mrs. Murray's tone was sharp. 'Who stole him?'

'If she knew she'd have him back, dear,' Mr. Murray said softly.

'I looked after him well, I gave him chocolate frogs every now and then, and I talked to him – though we argued a lot. My brothers and my friends all think Malfoy took him, but I don't think he did, though he is a right prick. _He_ thinks Bouilloire took him, as part of a dark wizards plot…'

I trailed off. My mouth had run away with me in the silence of the room, but when I'd mentioned Malfoy's suspicion, the Murray's had suddenly stared at each other in surprise.

'What's Bouilloire's last name?' Mrs. Murray asked.

'Garçon,' I said. 'He came just before the end of term, though we met him at the dance on Halloween.'

'Bouilloire Garçon…' Mr. Murray mused, before smiling suddenly. Mrs. Murray beamed back.

'I don't think you should worry about it anymore,' Mr. Murray said, still grinning.

'I'm sure that the kettle is very safe,' Mrs. Murray agreed.

'What is it?' I asked anxiously. What had they just realized that I'd missed?

'The kettle will probably find its way back to you,' Mr. Murray insisted, standing and ushering me to the door. I placed my untouched tea on the table and let myself be herded out.

'No, please, does Bouilloire have- hang on!' I was thrust out onto the doorstep.

'Thank you for coming to see us,' Mrs. Murray said, beaming. 'Have a happy Christmas!'

'_Please_!' I insisted, but they closed the door in my face.

As I walked home and ran the conversation back over in my mind, I came to one conclusion. The Murray's, Kettle and Bouilloire were all connected in some way.

The question was, how?

--

Christmas was like nothing I'd ever seen before. I was woken up by Harry coming into my room and shaking me awake.

'Lark! Lark! You've got to see this!' he was saying frantically. My eyes snapped open and I leapt out of bed – somewhat unsteadily – and made my way down the stairs.

The sight that met my eyes was magical, to say the least. There was a trail of floating candles leading down the stairs and into the lounge with the Christmas tree. Under the tree itself were five separate piles of presents, each substantial in itself.

'Oh! Because Lark knows, we're allowed to have a proper Wizard Christmas!' Luke realized, already going through his pile and wondering what the things were. 'Now Mum and Dad don't have to give our real presents later!'

_Just what lengths did they go to __to__ cover this all up_? I mused.

'Merry Christmas!' Mum said from the top of the stairs, gliding down. There was a sharp crack and Dad appeared right by the tree.

'Happy Holidays!' he cried joyfully.

The presents were wonderful. Luke and Harry gave me assorted wizard candies; My-Friend-Harry had sent me some quills and a bottle of emerald green ink; Ron had sent some Bertie Bots Every Flavor Beans; Hermione sent me a book titled '_Charmed Objects and How to Deal With One That Talks and Has an Attitude_'; Bouilloire sent me a beautiful orb-shaped necklace of black stone; and lastly, my parents had bought be my own blazer (I'd written to tell them of the tragic loss of one of my original blazers) with my name embroidered on the breast pocket, along with a Gryffindor lion, a new set of robes and my very own owl.

He was tawny in colour, with wide topaz eyes and an annoying habit of sticking his beak through the bars and nipping my fingers, or any exposed flesh within his reach. I named him Pinch, after a few such moments.

And the _food_! All my family came – at least, the wizarding ones – and we sat down to a _huge_ feast. By the end, I felt so full that I could probably pass off for a nice stuffed turkey. I couldn't swallow _one more_ piece of lettuce, even.

After the meal, there were more presents. Then everyone sat around talking, before joining in a huge Wizard Chess Tournament. I was knocked out almost immediately (beaten by my Uncle Herbert, who'd had too much to drink) but in the end Harry won and received two galleons.

Gradually, the family members returned home. I was curled in an armchair admiring the necklace from Bouilloire sleepily.

'Who gave you that, dear?' Mum asked, setting onto the couch next to me and eying it suspiciously over a magazine.

'A friend at school,' I said distractedly. 'Except, it was black earlier.'

During the course of the day, the stone had made a subtle change from black to a deep, azure blue. I hadn't noticed because I'd been preoccupied, and it had happened so slowly that when I did glance at it, it hadn't seemed too different from the last glance.

Harry, who had been passing through the room, stopped when he heard our conversation and came closer. He gave a gasp and snatched at the necklace, staring at it.

'Lark! This is a Moodstone, and a large one at that! Who gave it to you?'

'Eh, um, Bouilloire did…' I said, taking it back, 'a Moodstone? You mean like mood rings and that?'

He waved his hand impatiently. 'No, no, none of that Muggle heat nonsense, this is a proper Moodstone. It reacts to your actual feelings… which I'd say, at the moment, are quite relaxed?'

The stone, however, was darkening to a green/yellow colour, still retaining some of its blue. He grinned at me.

'Calm, but excited.'

'A boy gave you that, did he?' Mum asked from her sofa, peering at us. 'Do I know him?'

'No, he's new,' Luke answered coming in. 'Did _he_ give you that, Lark?'

'Sounds like someone's got a boyfriend,' Harry teased. I flushed and the stone turned pink along with my cheeks. They laughed harder when I realized what it had done.

'Oh, come on, leave her be,' Mum said after a while as I sat in my arm chair looking like a thunder cloud. Luke and Harry managed to stifle their laughter long enough to totter out of the room into the kitchen, where they resumed their laughing fit.

But the talk of Bouilloire had reminded me of my visit to the Murray's. I'd come away with a lot of questions, and now that I had Mum here maybe she would answer some of them.

'Mum, you know the Murrays…' I started. I saw her stiffen and glance at the kitchen, where the boys could be heard still cackling.

'Down the street? Yes I do,' she said nonchalantly.

'Well, Dad once said that you and them used to be good friends, but you'd had a fight.'

She nodded, concentrating on her magazine.

'What did you fight about?'

I tried to make the question seem casual, but I felt myself watching her every move to see her reactions. She narrowed her eyes slightly, and slowly lowered the magazine.

'There were, two things,' she said, slightly nervous. 'One of them was, ah, they disagreed with our… decision to bring you up as a Muggle.'

'Oh. And what was the other reason?' I asked eagerly.

At that moment my Dad came into the room, grinning and slumping onto the couch next to Mum. 'How was that?' he asked, beaming.

'Honey, Lark was just asking about our argument with the Murrays,' Mum said, giving him a meaningful look. I scowled, they were always leaving me out of things, even _now_ when I knew everything. Well, almost everything.

'Oh,' Dad said, the cheerfulness draining out and being replaced by a serious demeanor. 'And what did you tell her?'

'I just told her about how it was because we disagreed over the choice of her upbringing.'

'Ah.'

'But, you said there was another reason too,' I said quickly. They looked at each other anxiously, and I saw Dad shake his head, just slightly.

'Oh, _please_ tell me?' I begged. 'It has something to do with me, doesn't it?'

'Not really,' Mum said. 'This happened a while after the first disagreement, when we were already pretty estranged.'

'But what-'

'That's enough, Lark,' Dad said sternly. 'You don't need to know everything, and this is one of those things you don't need to know.'

'But Dad-'

'Lark, listen to your father,' Mum said. I hated it when they teamed up against me like that. I scowled at them and stood up.

'Fine then,' I snapped, before flouncing out of the room.

--

I spent the remainder of the holidays enduring Harry and Luke's relentless teasing, and taking walks. I wrote to Ron, Harry and Hermione thanking them for their presents and asking if they'd gotten mine, and I started a letter to Bouilloire before realizing that I didn't know where he lived. When we'd talked about the holidays, he hadn't said a word, or had excused himself. I fingered the Moonstone necklace absent mindedly, its colour was a faintly purple blue; mildly anxious?

I shoved my hands further into my pockets and scowled, recalling Christmas Day and my frustrating, unrevealing conversation with my parents. They had refused to talk about it again, and I'd gotten no further information out of either of them.

Tomorrow I was due to go back to Hogwarts. I couldn't bear to leave without the answers that I knew where here, and yet I had no choice. I scuffed my feet angrily as I walked.

Bouilloire wasn't likely to tell me anything, Kettle was still missing in action. My parents were stubbornly silent, and Malfoy had turned out to be a dead-end. So how was I supposed to get Kettle back? And even if I did, I was supposed to straight away return him to the Murrays, who ALSO didn't seem to want to tell me anything. Why had they suddenly assumed everything was going to be okay when I'd mentioned Bouilloire?

I stopped suddenly. It couldn't be… but how could I have missed it? It was so obvious, the similarities were-

I was jerked out of my thoughts and knocked flat on my face as a clump of snow hit me square in the back of the head. I struggled back to my feet, spinning to face my attacker. Luke and Harry grinned, getting more ammo ready.

'That's not fair! Two on one!' I cried, diving behind a bench as the snow was flung at me.

'Maybe you should call Bouilloire!' Harry snorted, and Luke doubled over, laughing. I scowled and made my own snowball, hurling it over the bench at them. They ducked and dodged, and I used the time to run to some more convenient cover.

'Coward!' Luke yelled as I spend towards the house. A snowball hit the ground to the side of me and I let out a whoop, speeding up. I could hear them chasing behind me.

'Lah-ah-ark!' Harry sung, and I could tell they were gaining on me. They were both quite a bit taller, and older of course, but if I could just make it..!

I only made it to the lawn before they tackled me onto the grass, shoveling icy, wet snow down the back of my jacket. I screamed and squealed for help, but no one came. By the time Luke and Harry had finished, collapsed on the ground in hysterics, I was well and truly soaked and shivering.

'Sorry Lark, you better go inside and get warm,' Luke said when he'd recovered, his mouth still twitching in a smile. I glared at him and jerked my hand away when he tried to help me up.

'Come on, we're sorry,' said Harry, the grin on his face giving me the feeling he wasn't really.

I stood by myself and turned to flounce inside, away from them. They exchanged a look and seemed to decide on something.

'Wait, Lark, let me make it up to you,' Luke said, dashing forward and grabbing my arm. Harry took hold of the other, and they glanced at the house, before turning me around and leading me away.

'What is it?' I asked impatiently, wanting to get inside and dry off. They glanced around again, before turning to me with lowered voices.

'We heard Mum and Dad talking after you'd gone on Christmas Eve,' Harry started.

'We were stealing some eggnog,' Luke interjected.

'And they were talking about the Murray's-'

'And their kettle you stole-'

'And Dad just happened to let slip something that might interest you-'

'They didn't know we were there, see-'

'But they were discussing their argument with the Murray's-'

'And we have substantial reason to believe we know what it is,' Luke finished.

'And?!' I asked quickly. 'What did you hear?'

'Apparently, the Murray's had a daughter your age. She disappeared, oh, was it ten years ago?' Harry directed the last part at Luke.

'Nine, I think,' he answered. 'She disappeared around nine years ago. We didn't hear quite how it happened, because at that moment _someone_ started giggling again.'

'I was just thinking of Lark's face when we told her what the Moodstone was,' Harry said, stifling a laugh. I scowled, but couldn't help feeling pleased.

'Well, I guess I shan't be _too_ mad at you, though I might just use an Unforgivable curse on you if you don't let me get into the house this instance to change into warmer clothes,' I said, glancing at the warm, inviting house.

'Alright, alright,' Harry said, his voice light. 'Off you go then.'

Once in the bathroom, I stopped for a moment to think. The Murray's had a daughter my age, who disappeared nine years ago. That was the same time the Murray's had gotten Kettle, if I recalled it correctly. So now, in this web of confusion, I had the Murrays, Bouilloire, Kettle, Mum and Dad, this mysterious disappeared daughter, and myself.

I shook my head to clear it. I could ask Mum and Dad again, but I doubted I'd get an answer. They'd be mortified if they knew I'd found out about the daughter – obviously she was supposed to be kept secret.

As I climbed into the bath, I tried to imagine her. A girl who disappeared when she was seven, if I was to trust my memory, who had caused a final and complete rift between two families that seemed to have been close before. Who had she been, and what had happened? Where was she now, if she was alive?

I closed my eyes and tried to empty my mind. Really, there was no sense in worrying about it. I would just have to ask Bouilloire again when I saw him.

My heart gave a lurch. It had been two weeks since I'd seen him and the rest of my friends. I realized, with a sickening swinging feeling in my gut, just how much I'd missed them all.

I grinned to myself and sunk into the bath, up to my chin. I only had one more night, I'd see them all tomorrow. And did I have some interesting news for them!

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Ah, I'm _exhausted_ at the moment. Just when the story is becoming more complicated to write, too. XX

I seem to be having trouble concentrating, so I'll put this up. There might be a little while until the next chapter, I apologize!

Oh, I had a fanart, too, if anyone cares to look at it. It's a really beautiful picture. I don't think I'm allowed to post links here, so I'll just tell you how to find it. Search 'Lark Fissure' on DeviantArt, and it's called 'HP – Draco and Lark'. It's by AngelicKitty89.

(It's actually from a little while ago, I just kept forgetting to say about it.)

SO! I hope you are happy with the story, and I'll try to get more sleep so as to finish the next chapter.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Chapter Twenty Two**

I was early to the train. I quickly found an empty compartment and settled down, fiddling with my necklace and glancing at the door. Would the others look for me or would they find their own compartment? I had looked everywhere, but hadn't seen them. Ron's family was generally late to the platform anyway, on account of there being so many of them.

The door slid open suddenly and Hermione burst in, giving me a hug. 'Lark! It's so good to see you!' she cried, bouncing onto the seat next to me. Ron and Harry edged in and sat down, smiling and saying hello.

'You guys have grown,' I said, grinning.

'Enough about that,' Hermione said after a while, glancing at the door. 'In your letter, you mentioned something about Kettle.'

'Yeah, what _were_ you going on about?' Ron said, wrinkling up his face. 'And _what on Earth_ was with your presents?' I grinned, Hermione and Harry did too. Ron was looking outraged.

'I mean, it didn't even look _human_, and what's the point if it doesn't move? The eyes were only painted on!' he complained.

I'd decided to give them all Muggle presents, because I didn't know what wizard presents were, really. I'd sent Ron an Action Man doll, Hermione a set of 'Learning to Read' books, and Harry a football. I'd included a Mars Bar and a packet of jelly beans, too.

'It's a Muggle doll, Ron,' explained Hermione, for what didn't sound like the first time. 'Most Muggle dolls don't move by themselves.'

'What's the fun in that? And Harry's present, how do you play with just _one ball_?'

I laughed and shook my head at his expression. 'Still,' I glanced at the door to make sure he wasn't there, 'I found out some things. About Bouilloire and Kettle.'

They listened silently as I told them about the Murray's strange reaction, and the secret disappeared daughter. The only interruption was when I mentioned about how my parents and the Murray's had argued over how I was brought up.

'The Murray's were right!' Ron said angrily. 'A witch should be brought up as a witch.'

'I know how you feel, my Aunt and Uncle never told me, either,' said Harry patting my shoulder.

'But what does it all mean?' asked Hermione quickly. I glanced at the door before leaning in even closer, and lowering my voice.

'Well,' I whispered, 'I was just thinking, and it suddenly hit me… Kettle disappeared when Bouilloire arrived.'

I leant back, waiting for it to sink in. Their puzzled expressions surprised me, and when Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry, who raised them back, I sighed impatiently.

'Just look at it! The similarities are all there: they both know things they were never there for, they're quick tempered and can be sarcastic – thought I admit Bouilloire is a bit better at keeping a lid on things. But the biggest clue is that Kettle disappeared when Bouilloire came to our school.'

Hermione let out a cry and grabbed my shoulder. 'You're right Lark! Bouilloire _must_ have been living in the Kettle, and has come out because, well, because,'

'Because he likes Lark?' Ron's voice was stupefied as he caught on to what we were suggesting.

'So what, Bouilloire's like, a one hundred year old Genie?' Harry's tone was bewildered.

'Not quite, he could still be quite young,' mused Hermione. 'But, yeah, kind of. Except… he might be a human… he could have been confined to the lamp.'

'So… he's _not_ just a charmed Kettle then?' I asked her. Ever since I'd realized I'd been worrying over it. If it turned out Bouilloire and Kettle were one in the same, I'd truly _never_ see Kettle again.

Hermione nodded slowly, noting the tone of my voice.

'Oh well Lark,' Ron said awkwardly. 'At least your boyfriend has a body now.'

'But we still don't know for sure if Bouilloire-'

'What are you four whispering about?'

The compartments doors were flung open and Bouilloire stepped in, his voice cheery. He startled us so badly we all leapt away from each other and cried 'Nothing!' in unison.

He stood and looked at us for a moment, a slight frown on his face. 'Alright,' he said slowly.

Then his eyes met mine and they lit up again, blue-grey and bright. 'Lark!' he cried, sweeping me in a big hug that crushed the air out of my lungs. I found myself hugging him back, I _had_ missed him, after all.

Ron coughed awkwardly, and Bouilloire swiftly released me, eyes still bright. 'I missed you so much. All of you,' he added quickly, gesturing around without taking his eyes off mine. Ron rolled his eyes.

'Well, we better changed into our robes!' Hermione said suddenly, easing the tension. We all leapt up hurriedly, eager to escape.

--

The Welcome Back banquet was marvelous, but was tainted slightly when I noticed Bouilloire wasn't there. I spent the whole time glancing at the Slytherin table, craning my neck and trying to spot him.

I frowned. He had been alright on the train, he didn't seem to have noticed that we were maybe talking about him. My stomach flipped; and what if he _was_ Kettle?

I glanced over again, and my eyes straight away met with Malfoy's cool grey ones. He smirked at me, knowing my exact intent. I glared before turning away, face flushed.

As soon as the banquet was over, I decided to go look for Bouilloire. I told Ron, Hermione and Harry a quick lie about needing a book from the library and dashed off. I got the feeling they didn't believe me, but it didn't matter. I decided to check the library first anyway; maybe Bouilloire was in there doing his holiday homework? I hardly knew where else he would be.

I ran around a corner and straight into something solid. I winced as I fell backwards, landing on my backside.

'What the- Fissure?!'

I looked up, Malfoy was standing over me, a surprised expression on his face.

'Oh, it's you,' I said glancing around. I got back to my feet, flushing furiously, and brushed myself off while struggling to look at him coolly.

He smirked all of a sudden. 'Ah, yes. Of course. Must be on your way to see Bouilloire then. He's just ahead I believe… Oh, and the pink really brings out your cheeks. Happy Holidays,' he added with a superior look, before walking away.

'What was that… Bouilloire's just ahead?' I murmured to myself.

It took me a moment to realize that the Moodstone had fallen out of my shirt, and it was indeed a bright pink. I flushed even worse and shuddered, the idea of Malfoy being about to see into my heart was invasive and repulsive.

But, I guess it meant Malfoy and I were on speaking terms again. I scowled, I preferred it when we avoided each other.

I shoved the Moodstone back into my shirt, not wanting it to betray to Bouilloire how I was feeling (excited, mildly anxious and confused) and set off running again. Malfoy had said he was just ahead, and I saw no reason for him to have lied about it.

I rounded a corner, and found him. He was walking along briskly, hands in pockets and staring at the floor. There was a troubled look on his face, and I hesitated to call out to him.

'Bouilloire?'

The voice had come from the other end of the corridor, and I looked up to see a Slytherin girl approaching. I leapt behind a wall and peered around, what was she doing there?

'Oh, hello,' he said casually, stopping and turning to look at her. His back was to me now.

She was flushing and kept glancing at him and then away again. My eyes narrowed slightly. It couldn't be… the deserted corridor… this awkward atmosphere… she couldn't be going to-

'Did you need something, I'm sort of in a hurry,' Bouilloire said, glancing my way. I ducked away, frightened I'd been spotted.

'I just wanted to, I wanted to tell you…'

I peeked around again. I didn't need to look at my Moodstone to know that it was vivid green with envy.

'You always… you always help me and my friends with our homework… and you're always really nice. And um, I met you on the night of the dance – though you probably don't remember… the Halloween dance… but um… I just thought, and uh, still do…'

She trailed off and swallowed painfully, glancing up at him and back at her feet. I couldn't see his expression, but he was still standing casually with his hands in his pockets.

'I think you're beautiful,' she whispered, and I had to strain to hear her voice. 'And I was thinking, I was wondering, if you thought… you might… go out with me…'

There was a silence. I glared furiously at the girl, frantically sending Bouilloire telepathic messages of refusal.

'Because I really, really like you,' the girl added, and then seemed satisfied.

'You… like me?' Bouilloire asked suddenly, his voice sounding peculiar.

'Yes.'

To my surprise, and evidently the girl's too, he let out a laugh.

'_You_ like me? How ridiculous!' he laughed. I gasped, and saw tears come to the girl's eyes.

'Wh-what-'

'And did you honestly think I'd accept?' Bouilloire's voice was full of wonderment. 'Well of course, that's ridiculous! I'm very special you know, and I have to have a girl who's special too. There's nothing special about someone like _you_.'

The tears cascaded down the girls face silently as she stared up at him. He was shaking his head in an amused way.

I stared, shocked. Surely I was mishearing things, Bouilloire couldn't be saying this. There was _no way_.

He suddenly seemed to notice her expression, and he ran a hand through his hair agitatedly.

'Ah, that is. I didn't mean to sound so, final. But you have to understand, I mean, you said it yourself. I'm beautiful. Wouldn't you say I'm special?'

She nodded silently, shaking. I continued to stare at them, a peculiar feeling in my stomach. Something like nausea.

He patted her head condescendingly. 'There, we agree then. I'm sorry.'

And with that, he turned away from her and began to walk. I ducked back around my corner, wildly confused. What was going on? That was such a horrible thing to say, and I couldn't believe _Bouilloire_, _my_ Bouilloire had said that. It was the kind of thing you'd expect from Malfoy, but _never_ from-

'Lark?'

I looked up, shocked. I hadn't realized he'd been coming my way, and now Bouilloire was staring at me in surprise.

'Oh, um, hello,' I said, not knowing what else to say. I became aware that I hadn't blinked for a while, and did so hurriedly.

'What are you doing hiding there?' he asked, offering his hand to me. I hesitated to take it, I could still hear the girl sobbing quietly.

'I uh, was just, waiting for a teacher…' I murmured, taking his hand. He gave mine a squeeze, smiling at me with his usual, soft smile.

I felt my heart melt. There was no way that had been Bouilloire before… after all, how could he say something like that and then smile like that? Bouilloire was kind, and, considerate. Always.

'So I guess you heard that then?' he asked suddenly as we walked away. I jumped, but nodded reluctantly.

'Uh, kinda. It was an accident though,' I added hurriedly. He just grinned and shook his head.

'Oh, I don't mind. It wasn't really a secret. But can you believe her?'

I froze and stared at him. 'Wh… what do you mean?'

'Her asking me like that. When it's obvious that I like…'

He trailed off and looked at me. I blinked a few times.

'When it's obvious that I like _you_, Lark,' a dry, amused voice interrupted.

We both jumped, and turned to see Malfoy leaning against the wall. He smirked at us both, and Bouilloire's face transformed from its usual tranquility into a look of immense hatred.

'Oh, hello there Malfoy, been reading any more diaries?' he hissed. A look of annoyance and – could it be? – embarrassment flitted across Malfoy's face briefly, before he looked at me.

'So sorry, did I interrupt your confession? I must say Garçon, that was quite a show. I thought it might be amusing to stick around for, and I was right. You're quite vicious, aren't you? 'Special', though.'

'Go away, Malfoy,' I muttered through gritted teeth, finding my voice finally.

'I _am_ special Malfoy,' Bouilloire said. 'Too special to go with someone like that. She's more, oh, _your_ standards.'

Malfoy's face colored. 'What's that Garçon? You have something to tell Fissure? Or shall I tell her for you?'

'Don't you _dare_,' Bouilloire hissed suddenly. I stared at Malfoy.

'Wh-what? What's going-'

'It's nothing, Lark,' Bouilloire said quickly, smiling for a moment before glaring at Malfoy again. 'Let's go.'

As we turned away though, Malfoy began to speak. 'I'd be careful if I were you, Fissure. He's not who he says he is. And if you really want to know about-'

'THAT'S IT MALFOY!' Bouilloire roared all of a sudden, whipping his wand out and turning to point it at Malfoy, who had already pointed his wand at Bouilloire.

I had never seen Bouilloire so angry before. He and Malfoy both looked capable of murder, and I glanced frantically at the deserted corridor.

'Bouilloire, stop it-'

'You were WARNED Malfoy!' he cried. 'And now-'

'_STUPIFY_!' Malfoy yelled.

'_ENNERVATE_!' Bouilloire countered immediately. He and Malfoy started to circle each other, breathing heavily.

'Please, don't, a teacher might-'

'Stand back, Lark,' Bouilloire growled softly. '_Locomotor Mortis_!'

Malfoy's legs snapped together and he fell onto his face with a quiet 'oof'. He raised his wand and yelled '_Rictusempra_!' Then, while Bouilloire wiggled around desperately fighting to control his frantic giggling, Malfoy pointed his wand at himself. '_Relashio_.'

Now, both back on their feet, they began to circle again. I had flattened myself against the wall, no idea what to do.

'_Incendio!_'

'_Flippendo!'_

'_Fernunculus!_'

'_Engorgio!'_

'_FINITE INCANTATUM_!' roared another voice.

Bouilloire and Malfoy immediately stopped flinging spells at each other. Bouilloire's nose had swelled to the side of an orange and was hanging limply from his face, whereas Malfoy was covered in horrible boils. Both were breathing heavily and glaring at the other.

Professor Sprout was looking menacing. She was dragging a large sack full of what looked like mould, and she dumped it down and shoved her wand back into her robes.

'No magic in the halls!' she said. 'That's a detention for all three of you.'

Malfoy pouted and crossed his arms in a sulky defeat. Bouilloire looked shocked, and glanced from me to Professor Sprout.

'But, Professor, Lark wasn't, she didn't-'

'That's _enough_,' she said, glaring. 'Saturday, you will report to the greenhouses for detention. And yes, _all of you_. Fighting in the halls is _forbidden_, and to be fighting over something like a girl-'

'I was _not_ fighting for _her_!' Malfoy interrupted, his cheeks pink and his eyes flashing.

'Your opinion has been noticed, Malfoy,' Professor Sprout said, her lips thinning. 'And for your impertinence, you have lost your house fifty points.'

I couldn't help but smirk at Malfoy as I left. He was scowling at the floor, and I noticed that his cheeks were still flushed. I grinned.

--

I stomped into the Gryffindor common room, my good mood well and truly gone. Not only did Malfoy infuriate me, not only did Bouilloire have some sort of bi-polar disorder, but they _both_ knew something and neither of them would tell me!

And now, because of their testosterone and their tempers, I had a detention the first Saturday back. Was there no justice? I hadn't even been involved!

I found myself grinning again though, at the memory of Malfoy's utmost revulsion at the idea of fighting Bouilloire for _me_.

'Lark!' Hermione cried, bursting down the stairs. The other students in the common room glanced at her in surprise. 'There you are!'

'Hello Hermione,' I said, feeling very tired.

'What's the matter?' she asked immediately.

'I just got a detention with Malfoy and Bouilloire,' I grumbled. 'Because they were fighting in the halls.'

'Oh no!' she gasped. 'Bouilloire was fighting?'

'Yeah. Malfoy started it… sort of. I think, something happened between them. Malfoy seems to know something that Bouilloire doesn't want him telling me.'

We looked around thoughtfully for a moment, until I noticed Hermione was still jigging up and down excitedly.

'What is it?' I asked curiously.

'Oh! Nothing!' she said quickly. 'But um, oh! Your owl, was just doing the most peculiar thing before… it was um, hopping, around… and… it's in… your room! Our room, so, you must be tired. Let's. Go.'

I raised an eyebrow but let her pull me up the stairs anyway. When we burst in, the first thing I noticed was Harry and Ron, the latter with an annoyed expression on his face.

'You okay?' I asked, glancing at them in surprise.

'I'm fine,' Ron said through gritted teeth.

'Oh, obviously,' a dry, sarcastic voice said from beside them.

A golden kettle was sitting on the end of my trunk, looking like it had never left. It had a few more scrapes and dints since the last time I'd seen it, but it was still the same old-

'Kettle!' I cried excitedly, seizing him and pulling him into an awkward hug. It occurred to me that to anyone else, this would look peculiar. 'Oh, how long have you been here? How did you… when?!'

'We found him outside the common room. He was abusing the Fat Lady,' Harry said, looking unhappily at Ron. 'We were just going to shove him in a bin-'

'But I found them before they could,' Hermione interrupted. 'Still, he won't tell us where he's been.'

'Where _have_ you been?' I asked curiously.

'Can't tell you,' Kettle said gruffly. 'Please put me down.'

I glared at him. 'What, you disappear for over a month, turn up on our doorstep, and still won't tell us where you've been all this time? I demanded angrily.

'It's not _my_ fault-'

I shook him violently. 'Who took you?! Who brought you back?! And _don't_ try to tell me you grew legs!'

'I _didn't_,' he cried indignantly. 'I'm just a charmed kettle, you should know that. That's all I am, a mere incantation and a flick of a wand!'

'Are you _sure_ you aren't Bouilloire?'

There was a dead silence in which no one moved. Not a breath stirred the still air, and Kettle's lid stayed perfectly still.

I glanced at Hermione, who was watching us with an eager expression. Ron and Harry were sitting on my bed looking apprehensive.

'Yes, I'm sure,' Kettle said eventually. 'I am not Bouilloire.'

I exhaled loudly and stared at him, seeing myself reflected. Without warning, I gave him another huge hug.

'I'm glad you're back,' I whispered.

--

'It's insane,' Ron said decidedly as we left the common room. 'It's gone mad, it's a talking _Kettle_, Lark.'

'I don't know what to do about all this,' I sighed. 'Malfoy, Bouilloire, Kettle, the Murrays.'

'Let's just do some research in the library,' Hermione said comfortingly.

'Oh, yes, research. You think that solves _everything_,' Ron muttered.

'Well, it _does_ Ron,' Hermione snapped. 'Or at least it would, _if you could read_.'

She stormed off ahead at full pace, and I glanced apologetically at Harry and Ron before running after her.

'Hermione-'

'Why, look who it is. Mudblood-Granger and Bouilloire's girlfriend.'

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had just turned the corner into our corridor and were now smirking at us in full force.

'Oh look, it's Malfoy and his two brain cells,' I snapped agitatedly. 'Come on Hermione, let's go,' I said quietly to her, not in the mood to talk to Malfoy.

'Reunited at last, are you?' Malfoy said softly as we passed. He could have meant me and my friends, but I immediately knew from his tone that he meant Kettle. I froze and stared at him in shock.

'What did- How did you know?' I gasped. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, as if unsure how to answer.

'I have my ways,' he drawled at last.

'Lark, you're hurting me,' Hermione squeaked suddenly. I looked at her, and found that I had gripped her arm tightly and was digging my fingers in. I hastily released her, turned back to Malfoy.

'Look, just what's going on,' I started angrily.

'I can't tell you that,' he smirked.

'Why _not_?' I demanded.

'Because, that wouldn't be fun,' he said slowly.

And with that, he moved on. I stared after him in wonder, did he really know what was going on? Could he _possibly_ know?

'Come on Lark,' Hermione said gently after a moment. 'Ron and Harry are catching up, let's just get to the library. He's probably lying, anyway.'

* * *

**Author's Note**:

I'm sorry this took so long, I got into a spot of bother (meaning I was super overtired) which 'caused me to sort of crash and I hadn't felt like writing at all.

Still! I'm back on a roll. I actually sat down and figured out the plot the other day. Well, the basic plot. I sort of just write without thinking mostly, or I have some key events as a basic outline.

I hope you like it

Oh, and thank you so much to everyone who favorites/alerts this or leaves a review. The support is much appreciated, and I reply to each and every one of you that it allows me to :)

I truly am grateful!


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Chapter Twenty Three**

Classes started, and the week went on as usual. Well, as usual as it could possibly be. I still had a talking kettle that was randomly kidnapped and returned with no explanation, some sort of a link between that and a boy who knew everything about me while I knew next-to-nothing about him, and then there was also the fact that it seemed no matter what I did, everyone was still keeping humongous secrets from me.

Saturday morning I slouched into the Great Hall feeling grumpy and tired. I had my detention with Bouilloire and Malfoy starting directly after lunch, but until then I had a few hours free time.

I sat at the Gryffindor table and looked around gloomily. Most people were using the weekend to sleep in, but the people who were up were chatting animatedly over cereal and toast, obviously still riding the buzz of 'first week back'. I sighed and slumped further into my chair.

'Come on, cheer up Lark,' Harry said plopping down into the seat next to me. 'It's just a detention, and you have it with Bouilloire anyway.'

'And whenever Professor Sprout isn't looking, just throw things at him,' Ron suggested, going to sit next to Hermione, but changing his mind and sitting next to Harry. Hermione threw him a hurt look.

'Lark isn't going to be throwing anything at anyone, Ron,' she said stiffly. 'She is going to stay out of trouble to avoid another detention. Right Lark?'

During the conversation however, my eyes had come to rest on Malfoy, who was eating at the Slytherin table, talking to Pansy Parkinson and some other Slytherins.

'Lark?' Hermione asked, her tone slightly nervous. 'You won't, will you?'

'Sure, yeah,' I said, not really listening and standing suddenly. 'Look, I have some things to do before my detention, so I'll catch you guys later. Bye.'

Malfoy had just stood up and made to leave the Great Hall by himself. And I had made my mind up to follow him.

It was clear to me that Malfoy had some answers, and if I wanted them, I'd have to ask him for them. Bouilloire didn't seem able to tell me, Kettle didn't want to, my parents were stubborn, and the Murray's seemed to think all would come well by itself.

Malfoy was blissfully unaware that he had collected his very own stalker, and I was able to follow him through the corridors without looking overly suspicious. His first stop was the Library, where he frightened a group of first years away, before hovering around the front of the restricted section. I hid behind a book called _Trapped Inside a Small Glass Jar_ and watched him closely. He didn't seem to be there for any reason; he simply stood and glanced from shelf to shelf, scanning the titles.

After a few minutes though, Madam Pince stopped fussing over some Ravenclaws who were talking too loud long enough to notice his strange behaviour. She stalked over, coming up behind him, and demanded that he either take a book or leave.

Malfoy smirked and made a smart remark that caused her to cry out in anger, but he left without another word. I replaced my book and followed him out, aware that Madam Pince's hawk-like gaze followed me.

He wandered around the corridors for a while. I began to get bored. Was this all he did? I mean, I hadn't expected to uncover an extremely complex routine of good deeds, but I'd at least expected something. So far, he'd only terrorized the one group of first years, and Madam Pince (if you could call one comment terrorizing), and I believed this was highly uncharacteristic of him.

Eventually I sighed and gave up. I would never understand him, even if I tried. I must have been tailing him for over an hour now, and I'd found out nothing. Well, other than he had some really strange habits, and was most likely completely insane.

I turned and began to walk back the way we had come. I rounded an unfamiliar corner, and then another. It dawned on me that I actually had no idea how to get back to familiar territory. Apparently one could spend days wandering in the corridors if they were lost.

I looked despairingly, first in the direction I'd been walking, and then back over my shoulder to where Malfoy was. Should I take a chance, or just hang onto his tail until he took me back to somewhere I knew?

I ended up reluctantly choosing to follow Malfoy. If I missed my detention I'd be in big trouble, and I would have to explain why I had been lost. So instead of continuing, I turned and ran quietly back to where I'd left Malfoy.

As was expected, he wasn't in the corridor I'd left him in. Fortunately there was only one way to turn at the end, so I turned down there. I wasn't sure how far he could have gone though, so before the next corner I stopped and peeked around.

And came face-to-face with Malfoy, leaning against the wall, a superior smirk on his pale, thin face.

'Boo,' he drawled, his smirk growing.

'Wh-what?' I gasped.

'If you're going to follow someone, you should try to be a little bit more careful,' he advised drily. 'I saw you as soon as I left the Great Hall.'

'But, I,' I gaped at him and opened and shut my mouth a few times. Then, my face burning, I turned abruptly on my heel and made to march off.

'Hang on,' he said, grabbing my arm. 'Why were you following me, anyway?'

'I wasn't!' I protested lamely, trying to wriggle free. He scoffed.

So followed a minor scuffle, in which Malfoy struggled to keep a grip on my wrists and I struggled to make him let go. Eventually we stopped, panting slightly, and he flashed me a triumphant grin.

'Now, tell me,' he hissed.

'What do you know about Bouilloire,' I asked after a moment. 'I mean, what's the thing you know that he doesn't want you telling me?'

He smirked and released my wrists, looking down at me. It annoyed me the way he could do that, just because he was taller. He had a certain self-important air about him as well, which helped in drowning me out.

'But Garçon doesn't _want_ you to know,' he said smugly.

'I know,' I said through gritted teeth.

'You want me to tell you his secret, even though he doesn't want you to know?'

'Yes!' I snapped. 'He never tells me anything, him and the rest. I just want to know what's going on, and if you're the only person who's going to help me, then I'll just have to ask you.'

'Okay,' he said thoughtfully.

'Well?' I asked after a moment of silence. He laughed drily.

'And what do _I_ get out of telling you?'

I gaped at him. It never occurred to me that he would want something from me, I thought he'd just be delighted to tell me simply because Bouilloire didn't want me to know.

'Uh, well, the satisfaction of uh, spoiling Bouilloire's secret,' I said uncertainly. What else could he want?

'But that would mean helping you, and I don't want to do that,' he said with a smirk. I scowled at him.

'I don't _care_ what you want!' I cried. 'But _I_ want to know what the hell is going on. And I don't need some up-himself loser from Slytherin parading the fact that he knows things I should know and then refusing to tell me!'

'And what 'up-himself loser from Slytherin' could you be referring to there: Garçon?'

'You know who I'm talking about,' I hissed angrily. I was about ready to smack him in the face. _Why_ couldn't thinks ever be simple and straight forward? Malfoy was my best chance at finding out, and yet it looked like I was going to have to bargain with him. Or threaten him.

He smirked at me for a moment, but seemed to be thinking. I glared at him, breathing slightly unevenly. I _hated_ him.

'Alright,' he said suddenly, 'I have a proposition.'

'Malfoy,' I started, wanting to tell him I had no intention of doing anything for him. He interrupted me though.

'I don't know the full story. I only know some of it. There's no way I can find it out, either. You have plenty of inside sources, the kettle wouldn't say a word to me no matter what I threatened or promised-'

I started in surprise. The kettle? When had Malfoy ever spoken to Kettle? Don't tell me – he couldn't have – had I been wrong? Had he actually had Kettle all along?

'You..!'

'Besides,' he ignored me, 'you're hardly going to get anywhere, even with that Mudblood working her little heart out in the library. I do have some contacts, my father, and he could get me details on any Bouilloire Garçon in the country.'  
He looked at my stupefied face. I was still chewing over the fact that he had spoken to Kettle. Did it in fact mean he'd had him all along, and everyone else had been right?

'I propose a partnership,' he declared. 'If we're going to find out about him at all, it'll be easier if we work together.'

'_You_, proposing to work with _Gryffindors_?' I spat, unconvinced. He scowled.

'Not Gryffindors, just you. This isn't for _enjoyment_, Fissure, this is business,' he said curtly.

'I already have people to research with,' I said coolly. 'And no doubt I can find out whatever information you have another way.'

I turned on my heel and started marching away. Before I'd taken two steps though, his hand had seized my shoulder and swung me back. His grip was tight, and he had taken his wand out, pointing it at me in such a way that it was almost stuck up my left nostril. I let out a small cry of surprise, and went completely rigid.

'If you won't help me, then I'll hex you so badly, Garçon won't even _recognize_ you.' His voice was soft and threatening and I shivered in shock. His grey/blue eyes bored into mine, and I could see the hatred in them. There was something else too, something small that told me he wouldn't really do it – _couldn't_ really do it – but it was such a small part, I couldn't trust it.

My own eyes were wide with terror, like round, brown saucers. He smirked with delight at my obvious fear, and spoke again, softly.

'So what do you say,' he whispered. 'Partners?'

'Alright,' Professor Sprout announced. 'I want you to carry all these pots into Greenhouse One.'

I stared at the mountain of terracotta coloured pots in dismay. We'd be here until midnight if she really wanted us to move them all. The pile dwarfed the entire greenhouse, leaving no space for anything else. They covered the floor and the benches, and were stacked higher than me in some places. I stood as far away as I could, the whole lot looked like it could collapse at any moment.

'You can't mean us to move them _all_?' Malfoy crowed, sounding outraged.

'All of them,' Professor Sprout said brightly. 'And you better start now if you want to finish before dinner. Oh,' she paused on her way out. 'And if a single one breaks, it will mean another detention. For all of you. Try to keep your hormones in check, boys.'

My face burned, but I couldn't help but laugh when I saw Malfoy's mortified expression. He scowled at me, face still flushed, and turned away to stare at the pots.

'I'm so sorry Lark,' Bouilloire said softly, moving to take my hand. I squeezed his warmly, forcing a smile.

It was hard. I knew he was keeping some sort of a secret from me, and yet, I sort of... I really liked him. He was always nice, after all. I mean, everyone has moments when they aren't at their best, right?

But, the incident with the Slytherin girl's confession still bothered me. How could he have been so callous and uncaring? It was so unlike the way he was to me, that I almost couldn't accept it.

Malfoy wasn't going to tell me what was going on yet. He said he wanted to find something out before he told me, just to make sure he 'had his facts straight'. I reluctantly accepted.

I still didn't like this idea of 'investigating' Bouilloire with Malfoy. It was alright to do it with Harry, Ron and Hermione, because they all liked him. Well, except maybe Ron.

But Malfoy was doing this out of something akin to hatred. And I didn't think Bouilloire deserved that kind of treatment.

'Are you going to do any work, or are you just going to stand their fantasizing all day, Fissure?' Malfoy's voice drawled all of a sudden. I yanked my hand away from Bouilloire hastily and scowled at Malfoy.

'Mind your own business Malfoy, are you sure you can even lift those pots? Sure you don't need to go tell Daddy?'

Malfoy made as if to shove me, but Bouilloire stepped in the way. The two glared at each other for a moment, before moving off to take some pots.

I grabbed an armful of small pots and started to carry them to the other greenhouse. The weather was still chilly, but thankfully it wasn't snowing anymore. Bouilloire offered me his coat when he noticed me shivering after a few runs, but I declined.

Shifting the pots was hard work, and despite the weather we were soon pulling off our jumpers and chucking them on the benches we'd cleared. Malfoy's cheeks had turned pink with exertion, which made me laugh. He looked so innocent, like a blonde angel.

The thought made me blanch. Excuse me? Malfoy, innocent? Plus, an angel would never walk around with such an ugly expression on its face. All sulky and angry. I was still explaining to myself the many ways in which Malfoy was not angelic when a hilarious thing happened.

Bouilloire picked up one of the larger pots, and turned to Malfoy who was carrying some smaller pots. He said something I didn't hear, and Malfoy's cheeks burned redder than before. He proceeded to march toward me, shove the pots into my arms, and grab his own gigantic pot. The two boys then raced each other across the lawn to the other greenhouse, before returning, each panting, to do it again.

I snorted at their stupidity. They were both so eager to prove they were better than the other. While they raced, I continued to plod along slowly, carrying the smaller pots.

Maybe it was because of their races, but by the time we finished dinner had only just started. Professor Sprout came in to check our work before dismissing us, and we trudged up to the castle, exhausted.

'What's the matter Malfoy, can't handle a bit of exercise?' Bouilloire challenged, short of breath.

'How about you, Garçon, did you break a nail?' Malfoy panted in response.

'You two...' I sighed. 'Just, give it a rest.'

'Shut up, Fissure,' Malfoy snapped. Bouilloire spun to look at him, seeming re-energized.

'Don't you speak to her like that!' he cried angrily, blue eyes blazing.

'I'll speak to her how I want to,' Malfoy growled.

'I said _watch your mouth_ Malfoy.'

'Don't try to tell _me_ what to do, Garçon.'

'Bouilloire, don't do this, I'm hungry-' I started to plead, but I was completely ignored.

'Apologize to her, now.'

'I won't!'

'I'm giving you one last chance, Malfoy.'

'You have _no right_ to tell me what to do. Just because she's your friend, doesn't mean you can order me to apologize. This is between me and her, and does not include you!'

'I _do_ have the right to order you to apologize when you tell _my_ girlfriend to shut up!' Bouilloire cried, all of a sudden. Malfoy and I both stared at him with the same expression: That of a stunned mullet.

'Excuse me?' I blurted.

'Your _girlfriend_?' Malfoy spluttered, glancing at me with wide eyes.

'Yes,' Bouilloire said shortly. 'And as it is, I believe you owe her an apology.'

Malfoy's face had gone bright red, and he seemed angrier than before. He glared daggers at me before turning back to Bouilloire, a slightly triumphant (yet insane) expression on his face.

'Well then!' he crowed. 'If she's your girlfriend now, I guess she should know, shouldn't she?'

'Don't do this Malfoy,' Bouilloire warned.

'I'm _sure_ you were going to tell her anyway,' Malfoy continued. 'But I guess it won't hurt if I tell her now. Lark,' he turned to me, 'your kettle went missing not too long ago, didn't it?'

'Malfoy!' Bouilloire barked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

'Would it help you to know, that it was I who found the kettle-'

'Please-'

'In Bouilloire's possession?'

While they'd been arguing, I'd been looking from person to person, unsure of whether to intervene or just walk away. Whenever they fought, it seemed as if they were in a world of their own, and any input from me went unnoticed.

But now, now I was the centre of attention. Malfoy was looking at me with a furiously triumphant look, while Bouilloire was looking hopelessly discouraged and worried.

'You found, Kettle...' I said in a small voice.

My head was spinning. So, Bouilloire _had_ taken him. After all this time...

'You... had him..?' I asked Bouilloire. He nodded despairingly.

'But Lark, I was going to give him back. You see, I can explain. Really,' he pleaded. I stared at him with wide, confused eyes.

I was hopelessly confused. I didn't know _what_ to think or who to trust. It was certain though, that Bouilloire had had my kettle.

I drew myself up and looked at the both of them in turn. Then, I faced Bouilloire.

'I, am _not_ your girlfriend,' I said shortly. 'We, are just friends. But _not right now_. Right now, I don't want to see you. So, if you wouldn't mind, I'm going to get dinner.'

I spun on my heel and went to leave, but had a second thought. I turned back to Malfoy.

'Oh, and Malfoy, you're a stupid arse, I wish you'd never been born, and the real reason you could never be an angel, is because you're a bloody RETARD.'

Then, I turned and marched into the castle, leaving them both to stand in the snow.

'What was that about me being an angel?' Malfoy asked, mystified.

**Author's Note**

I am SO sorry this has taken so long. Something came up, and I hadn't felt like writing. But last night at 12am, I suddenly had the urge to delete half this chapter and rewrite it differently. So I did.

It does mean that Malfoy reveals his information earlier than I had planned… which just means… Next chapter will be a confrontation with Bouilloire. :3

Thank you for being patient! I hope that my updates will be faster now.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Almost as soon as I had left I'd burst into tears. I'd then wandered around the hallways sobbing and muttering angrily before getting myself horribly lost. By the time I found my way to the common room I was well and truly dishevelled, hungry, and very, very angry.

Harry, Ron and Hermione (along with the rest of the common room) all leapt in fright when I burst in, almost knocking the Fat Lady out of her frame. I stomped past them all and collapsed into a chair facing the fire.

'Lark?! Whatever's the matter?' Hermione cried, running to me. I sighed heavily, and when Ron and Harry had joined us I told them the story.

'I can't believe it,' Hermione gaped.

'I can,' Ron muttered.

I snorted with laughter before bursting into tears again.

'I just can't believe it, it's so, s-so, _typical of me_!' I sobbed. 'I mean, it was so obvious he w-wasn't being truthful, but I ch-chose to believe him anyway. I don't know _why_. And then _Malfoy_, ooh, th-that... that _prick_!'

Eventually they managed to calm me down enough to feed me the food they'd saved me from dinner. Then first Ron, then Harry, then Ron's brothers Fred and George offered to beat them both up for me.

'And they deserve it,' Hermione said fiercely, which surprised me. So much that I began to laugh.

'She's hysterical,' my brother Harry said coming over. 'Really,' he sighed, 'you shouldn't let her get so worked up. Come on Lark,' he lifted me up off the chair, 'time for bed. You can beat those nasty boys up in the morning.'

'I told him he was an angel,' I snorted as he dropped me on my bed. 'Well, not really. And it was an accident.'

He flicked my nose. 'Shut up and go to sleep, you stupid Muggle.'

'_You_ shut up,' I muttered into my pillow.

--

I was dreading going to class and seeing either Bouilloire or Malfoy. Thankfully on Monday I had no classes with them. The only two classes I had with Slytherin were Transfiguration and Potions, and I didn't have them until tomorrow.

Once I'd calmed down, I had told the others I didn't want them to do anything to either Malfoy or Bouilloire. I wanted my own revenge, but would be happy if they wanted to help. _Some_ people obviously couldn't contain themselves though, as on Sunday at lunch time Malfoy was hit by a dung bomb that couldn't _possibly_ have come from Fred and George Weasley.

The one good thing that had come of all this was that now I wouldn't have to talk to Malfoy. I wouldn't be teaming up with him to investigate Bouilloire at all, for which I was glad.

We were sitting in the common room doing our homework when a little first year boy came up to me and told me that a boy with black hair wanted to talk to me, and was waiting out in the hall.

'Bouilloire,' Ron growled.

'Don't go out, Lark,' Hermione warned. I nodded.

'Thanks anyway,' I told the first year boy. 'Have a chocolate frog.'

A little while later, a different first year girl came and told me that Malfoy wanted to speak to me in the library.

'Quite the popular one, aren't you?' Harry joked drily.

'You won't go, will you Lark?' Hermione asked as I stood up.

'I want to smack him in the face,' I said brightly before marching out of the common room.

As soon as the portrait swung shut behind me I realized it had been a mistake. Bouilloire was leaning against the wall, and he leapt up when he noticed me.

'Lark,' he started, but I had spun and demanded that the Fat Lady open up and let me back in.

'I need the password, dear,' she said, eyeing Bouilloire. I scowled at her.

'Lark, please,' Bouilloire whined, grabbing my arm. I snatched it away.

'Don't touch me, you, you, you _liar_!' I hissed. He looked crestfallen, but let his arm drop to his side. The Fat Lady watched us with great interest.

'I just want a chance to explain,' he murmured quietly. I crossed my arms, fixing him with the worst glare I could possibly muster. To be completely honest, I was feeling guilty already. He looked so forlorn and lost. But, I wasn't going to let him off.

'What's there to explain? You stole my kettle, lied about it, didn't even _tell_ me even though I was out of my mind with worry, and to make it worse you even told _Malfoy_, who eventually told me.'

'I didn't tell Malfoy!' he cried, seeming hurt. 'He went through my belongings and found him. He even tried to read my journal, and you can tell.' His face took on a slightly smug expression. 'I spelled it. Even now the jinx hasn't worn off.'

I stared at him in awe. Who was this? The Bouilloire I knew – or thought I knew – would never have done something like that. Curse a book, and then brag about it later. Was this the same boy that had turned down that Slytherin girl in such a horrid way?

'Who _are_ you?' I ended up blurting. 'Who _are_ you, Bouilloire?'

He stared at me for a moment, eyes mournful. Then he shook his head.

'I can't tell you, you, I... I want to. But...' he waved his hand. 'I don't want you to... hate me,' he finished weakly.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly. 'I wouldn't... I,' I took a deep breath and stared at him in a serious manner. 'To be honest Bouilloire, I don't think I could possibly hate you any more than I do now.'

He stared at me, eyes wide and hurt. I bit my lip, but found I didn't regret those words.

'Unfortunately Lark,' he whispered, 'I actually, don't believe that you hate me that much all. I think... maybe it's more of a hope, though... that you still harbour some sort of kind feeling towards me... maybe. And it would be entirely possible for you to hate me a lot more.'

'Maybe,' I repeated coolly, leaning against the wall. I was shaking slightly, but I didn't want him to know how nervous I was. 'So, are you going to say anything interesting, or can I go back in?'

'I told her to tell you I was Malfoy, because I figured you'd be more likely to come out for him than me,' he said with a sad smile.

I stared at him. 'And why did you think _that_?' I snorted.

'Well, you came, didn't you?' he said quietly.

I was speechless. The idea that I had come because it was Malfoy, and not Bouilloire, because I, because I _liked_ Malfoy, was utterly-

'That's utterly _retarded_!' I screeched. 'I came because I wanted to smack him in the face, not because we're _friends_. This is mostly _his_ fault, as I have some sort of feeling you were going to tell me _eventually_, in twenty years or so. The thing is Bouilloire, I thought I liked you. But, now I don't even know who you are. And to be _completely_ honest, I'm not even sure I want to.'

He nodded. 'I know,' he said sadly. 'And I'm sorry.'

'Sorry isn't enough,' I murmured, feeling tears in my eyes again. I muttered the password to the Fat Lady – who had been listening intently – and then slipped in before Bouilloire could say anything else.

--

Tuesday started just as Monday had ended; with torture.

'We know you know something,' I cried, jabbing my index finger at Kettle. He sighed.

'Alright, maybe I do know something. But I'm not at liberty-'

'We don't care!' Ron shouted.

'Who is Bouilloire?' Harry demanded.

Kettle snorted. 'I don't feel pain, you know. There's nothing you can do that would make me tell you anything.'

'I'll send you back to the Murray's,' I warned. 'Then you'll never see Bouilloire again.'

This time Kettle burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter. 'Ah, oh that's funny! "Never see him again" she says. I'd _love_ to never see any of you again. At least the Murray's looked after me. Do you know how long it's been since someone bothered polishing me? I'm telling you: There's nothing you can do to make me talk.'

I gaped at him in frustration. He wouldn't mind never seeing us again? What a, a... a spoilt kettle!

'I'll polish you if you tell us..!' Ron coaxed, picking up a brass candlestick. 'Give him here Lark, I'll polish him right up.'

'Don't be stupid, Ron,' Hermione snapped, snatching the candlestick away. 'This isn't the time.'

'Exactly,' Kettle said smartly. I resisted the urge to bellow and hurl him through the window.

I exhaled forcibly and picked up my book bag instead. 'We better go. Don't want to be late.'

'Potions first,' Harry said despondently.

'With the Slytherins,' Ron muttered, kicking my trunk.

'And Snape,' Hermione groaned.

'And Malfoy,' Kettle sighed.

Pinch, my owl, hooted and we looked at him sombrely.

'Yes Pinch, Bouilloire too.'

We made it to potions just in time. As we all filed in and took our desks, I glanced around. I couldn't see Bouilloire or Malfoy anywhere.

Just then, Malfoy came into the classroom. He smirked when he saw us and stalked over.

'Hello, Fissure, Potter, Weasley. Granger,' he said her name as if he wanted to get it out of his mouth as fast as he could.

'Take your seats, please,' Snape ordered from the front of the classroom. Malfoy slid into the desk beside mine and Hermione's.

My hands were clenched into tight fists on the desk in front of me, so tightly that my knuckles had turned white. He was so, so, so annoying. It was all I could do not to leap off the desk and smack him up the head.

'It's time for new partners,' Snape was sneering from the front of the class. I exchanged a look with Hermione: Would we get to choose our partners this time?

The rest of the class was obviously thinking much the same thing, as the Gryffindors and Slytherins regarded each other unhappily. Snape smirked.

'You may choose your own partners,' he said eventually. 'But if I'm unhappy with the pairing I will change it.' His eyes rested on Harry and Ron, who grimaced at each other.

'So quick, pair up.'

'I don't think Harry and me should go together,' Ron said. 'I think he'll split us automatically.'

'He's quite likely to split us all anyway,' Hermione murmured unhappily.

'It's worth a try though,' Harry insisted. 'You and Ron pair up Hermione, I'll go with Lark.'

We shifted our belongings to our new desks and sat quietly. Would Snape shift us?

He split up Lavender and Parvati along with a few other Gryffindors, pairing them with specially chosen Slytherins, but for some reason he left the four of us alone. I exhaled happily.

'And Malfoy, you can partner with Seamus Finnigan. I don't like the odds of him and Dean Thomas together,' Snape finished, sitting at his desk. 'Crabbe you go with Thomas.'

'Professor Snape, Sir,' Malfoy's voice piped up. 'Do you think I could go with Fissure instead?'

There was dead silence in the classroom. I stared at my desk with wide eyes, not moving or breathing. The rest of the classroom stared at Malfoy and I, along with Snape. I begged Snape to say no with my mind. Please, oh please.

'Why, yes...' he said thoughtfully after a moment. 'Fissure and Potter are a disaster pair to be sure. I'd rather not be sending all my students to the infirmary. Alright, Finnigan you go with Potter, and Fissure you move your things to Malfoy's desk.'

'Please sir,' I cried before I could stop myself. 'I'd much rather go with Harry, I can assure you I'll try my best. Just please, don't put me with Malfoy again.'

The Slytherins sniggered, and Malfoy and Snape wore matching smirks. I felt myself tremble. After a long and uncomfortable silence, I quietly moved my things and sat next to Malfoy.

'Thank you, Fissure. I believe that's ten points from Gryffindor,' Snape said dryly. 'Now, today's potion will be...'

'This makes things easier,' Malfoy whispered. I stared straight ahead, ignoring him.

'That was your fault,' he said testily. 'If you'd just come and sat when you were told, without making a scene, then he wouldn't have-'

'I'm not mad about _that_!' I hissed. 'Are you honestly that thick?'

He looked slightly taken aback, and he scowled.

'What _are_ you talking about?' he muttered. 'I haven't done anything. _You're_ the one who lied to me.'

'What?!' I gasped. 'Are you completely insane? Do you have no recollection of the weekend at all?'

'Fissure,' Snape said curtly from the front of the room. 'Would you kindly refrain from talking, and listen to the lesson? If you get your potion wrong I'll know why. Ten more points.'

I slouched in my chair and scowled at Malfoy. He scowled back.

The lesson passed without a major mishap. I realized halfway through that Bouilloire wasn't even in the room, and that made me feel a bit better. I felt so much better that I accidentally smiled at Malfoy, who looked completely confused and looked away quickly.

Once class was over I went to pick up my books. Before I could however, Malfoy snatched my bag up.

'I want to talk to you,' he said. I glared.

'I _don't_ want to talk to you.'

He narrowed his eyes at me and then spun on his heel to march out of the room.

'Hey, wait!' I cried. 'Malfoy, you git!'

I raced out after him, almost knocking someone over. I threw a hurried apology their way but didn't stop.

Malfoy had seen me running and had probably noticed the murder in my eyes. He started running away, my bag still clutched in his thin hands.

'MALFOY!' I bellowed. 'Don't-You-Dare!'

'Catch me if you can, Fissure!' he jeered over his shoulder, before speeding up.

We raced through the corridors, dodging in and out of the other students heading for their next class. I threw insult after insult at the back of Malfoy's head, but he probably didn't understand half of them.

Suddenly, I realized I was a witch. I mean, witches don't have to run. I yanked my wand out of my robe and pointed it at Malfoy's back.

'_Accio bag_!' I cried, and Malfoy almost fell over as the bag was yanked out of his hand. He stopped running and scowled at me. I stuck my tongue out at him in triumph.

'How come you didn't tell me,' he demanded quietly as I turned away. I frowned slightly and turned back to him.

'Tell you what?' curiosity filled my voice. What on earth was he talking about now?

'How come you didn't tell me you were going out with Garçon?'

He was scowling at me with an almost betrayed expression. I blinked at him a few times. It couldn't be, he wouldn't be, could he be..?

'Malfoy,' I said incredulously. 'Are you _jealous_?'

'No!' he snapped. 'I just don't like being _lied_ to and _used_.'

'I didn't _lie_ to you-'

'Did you just think that the fact you two were going out wasn't _important_ then? You just wanted to use me as some way to get back at him?' he snarled. I stared at him in utter surprise. He was really, _really_ mad.

'Malfoy, I,'

He went on, motoring over the top of my feeble attempt at speech. 'Or were you just humouring me? Sniggering about me behind your backs together? Real underhanded Fissure, and there I was thinking you were an innocent little Gryffindor.'

'Look here Malfoy,' I snapped angrily. '_You_ were the one who shoved a wand up my nose and demanded I join your little jamboree-'

'Oh! So now this is _my_ fault-'

'And now you've gone and forced me to be your stupid Potions partner again, so now I'll have to spend MORE time in your company, and hell, maybe your underhandedness is rubbing off on ME. If you want to see the master of deceit and cruelty, then all YOU need to do is look in a mirror.'

We glared at each other, breathing heavily, fists clenched as if we were ready to fly at one another and start hitting wildly. I calmed myself though, and shoved my book back into my bag.

'Besides,' I spat through gritted teeth. 'We weren't going out.'

He looked utterly bewildered. 'But Garçon said-'

'He said that all by himself. He'd never even mentioned it to me before, it was the first I'd heard of it. That's why I told him I wasn't.'

'Oh,' Malfoy said stupidly.

I glanced at his stupid pale face, with the stupid blonde, gelled hair. Strands had come un-gelled while we'd been running and yelling, and his cheeks were tinted pink again. I felt mine burning all of a sudden, and I quickly looked away at the floor.

'B-besides,' I muttered. 'If you... if you hadn't blurted out what you did... then maybe, we might be... We... we might _be_.'

'Oh, and is that what you wanted, Fissure?' he snarled, immediately back on the defensive. 'I only said it because I was mad. But, but why did,' he struggled to find the words, 'why did he say you were going out then, if you weren't?'

'Because he's insane,' I snapped. 'I don't know. Oh, god, we're late for class. Can I go now?'

'There's one more thing that's been bugging me...' he murmured.

'Yes?' I asked impatiently.

'Why did you call me an angel?'

I stared at him, lost for words. He had remembered my sub-conscious revelation. I felt my face go red, and I gathered all of my strength to muster a dignified scowl.

'I didn't call you an angel. I said there was no way you could be an angel,' I muttered stiffly. He still looked confused. When I didn't say anything else however, he began to smirk.

'I see,' he said. 'It's alright Fissure. It happens to the best of us.'

'Wh-what does?' I asked grouchily.

'You've been taken in by my amazing good looks and my cavalier charm, haven't you?' he said leaning against the wall and smirking at me. My face burned bright red all over again, and I could hear the blood pounding in my ears.

'I have not!' I said shrilly. 'It was merely because of something I overheard P-Pansy saying! I wanted to save you some face by not mentioning it, but I guess you probably _love_ it when she calls you her "Sweet Angel-Cakes".'

My remark had the desired effect. Malfoy's face (not just his cheeks) turned red, and he snarled something about having to go to class.

'Fine!' I yelled back. 'I have better things to do than talk to you anyway!'

'FINE!' he shouted, turning and marching away. 'You're a waste of my time!'

'YOU ARE!' I cried lamely, watching him walk away.

When I was alone again, I realized I wasn't quite sure where I was. I gave a cry of frustration and began to try and find my way to my next class.

--

By the time I got to Transfiguration there was only twenty minutes left of class. Professor McGonagall was furious and immediately docked me ten more points. That was thirty points I'd lost today, and it wasn't even lunch time.

Professor McGonagall called me over at the end of the class and shooed a worried Hermione out of the room. I quickly blurted out an apology and a made-up excuse, but she stopped me.

'Usually I would overlook this, but your lateness today was inexcusable. I want an essay on today's lesson by Friday, where you will serve a detention. Next time, make a better effort.'

I left the classroom even angrier than when I'd gone in. If I ever saw Malfoy again, and I undoubtedly would, I'd give him a severe belting.

'I have extra homework. _And_ a detention,' I told Hermione who was hovering outside the door. She sighed.

'Why were you so late anyway?' she asked. 'You ran off after Potions, but you went in the right direction so I thought you'd be here before us.'

'I had an argument with Malfoy,' I muttered. 'He's so... frustrating.'

'You argued for a long time,' she remarked.

'Oh,' I flushed. 'Well. Then I got lost.'

She snorted and shook her head. 'We better get to lunch, Ron and Harry are waiting for us.'

I nodded and hitched my bag further onto my shoulder.

Bouilloire wasn't at lunch either. I frowned slightly, wondering if he was ill. Malfoy glared at me when I caught his eye, and I stuck my tongue out. Pansy noticed and made a rude gesture which I chose to ignore while Malfoy laughed until he almost fell of his chair.

When I turned back to my meal, I noticed something else. Harry and Hermione had sat on either side of me, but Ron hadn't taken his usual seat beside Harry, and had instead sat next to Hermione. My eyes went wide when I noticed they were holding hands.

'Harry,' I hissed leaning over to him. '_Look_.'

He leant forward and I saw his eyes widen. He inhaled the food he'd been trying to eat in shock and started coughing violently, creating a big enough disturbance to cause Hermione to hastily withdraw her hand.

'He's fine!' I told the surprised onlookers, whacking him on the back enthusiastically. 'He's fine!'

Ron snorted into his goblet and Hermione grimaced before turning to me.

'You should do your homework with me in the library after classes. I _might_ be able to give you some help, just because you've got so much now. Harry, you should come too, with Ron.' She rummaged through her bag. 'I think we've got something for every subject – Snape gave us lots – so we'll have to work hard. And _no_, Harry, you can't copy mine,' she stopped Harry before he could even say one word. He rolled his eyes and went back to his meal.

'Alright,' I sighed. 'I guess I'll need your notes from Transfiguration anyway, since I missed most of the lesson.'

'I hope Malfoy got in trouble too,' Ron said gleefully. We'd filled them in on the reason I was late when we first sat down.

'I'm sure he did,' Hermione said, throwing Malfoy a reproachful glance where he sat. He noticed us all looking at him and pulled a face, before whispering something to Pansy that made her shriek with laughter. We sighed and turned away.

**Author's Note:**

I really didn't like this chapter. It is b.o.r.i.n.g. I'm sorry ;

The next chapter starts things moving, perhaps just a little bit :P

I apologize for how badly this was written! I've been feeling a bit unwell as of late, and I guess it showed.

Enjoy!


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Chapter Twenty Five**

Bouilloire didn't show up for class on Wednesday or Tuesday either. I began to wonder if he was ill, but he wasn't in the hospital wing. Had he gone home? Was he skipping?

My massive load of homework was continuing to pile up and Hermione was beginning to panic for me. She forced me to spend long hours in the library, but it wasn't even making a dent. I began to despair about ever finishing it.

'Well, I think I'm going to hit the hay,' I declared, standing and gathering my books. Hermione narrowed her eyes at me and I quickly sat back down.

'But I'm tired,' I whimpered. 'And we both know I'm not going to finish.'

She let out an exasperated sigh. 'At least finish the detention homework for Professor McGonagall, else you'll be in even more trouble.'

Ron and Harry had escaped an hour earlier, saying they had to check with Professor Flitwick about something. I knew they were lying, but Hermione let them go anyway.

I began to scratch more words onto the parchment, looking at Hermione's notes for reference. She had made me copy them out before I could use them, which had taken even more time. I had almost finished when a shadow fell over the desk.

We looked up to find Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle not far behind. All three smirked, and Hermione and I were almost knocked away with the sheer ferocity.

'What do you want?' I demanded, squinting at Malfoy. He peeked at my work, and I flipped it over.

'To talk to you. About our Potions homework,' he said eventually. I stared at him blankly.

'But we don't have any Potions work. Well, none that we have to do together,' I blurted.

'Yes we do,' he insisted. 'Now just come over here.'

'If it's just homework can't we just discuss it right here?' I began to complain. He grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the chair.

'_Now_ Fissure!'

Reluctantly I let him drag me away from Hermione and his cronies. When we'd reached an area he deemed 'safe' he released me.

'What is it?' I snapped.

'I've asked my father to enquire about a Bouilloire Garçon everywhere. He can check records and find his date of birth, his address, everything,' he said quickly, still glancing around. I blinked a few times.

'You're serious about this aren't you?' I sighed in the end. 'Isn't it impossible? I mean, where do we even start looking? He could be anyone or anything. We don't even know if that's his real name.'

'We can start by actually _trying_. While we're waiting for my father's answer we can look through record books, see if there's any record of him in there.'

'All these books are fifty years old,' I snorted. 'Why would he be in them?'

He shrugged agitatedly. 'If he isn't human then we don't know how old he is. It's a start, anyway. And we can look for things about talking kettle's too.'

I shook my head. This was stupid. 'Look, it's a nice idea but it isn't going to work. Plus, I don't even feel right about doing it. And I have heaps of homework at the moment. Right now I have to finish an essay for McGonagall, else she's going to give me another detention.'

'He hasn't been to the dormitory at all since Sunday.'

As the news set in my eyes widened. Bouilloire hadn't been seen since Sunday? My mouth fell open and I quickly closed it, grasping wildly for something to say.

'H-have you seen him after then?!' I demanded. 'He isn't in the infirmiry – I checked when he didn't turn up for classes or meals for two days – and he can't have gone home on such short notice, right?'

At that moment though, Hermione marched over and grabbed my arm, glaring at Malfoy.

'Come on,' she murmured. 'You really do have to finish your work.'

'We're _talking_, Mudblood,' Malfoy sneered. I only _just_ resisted the urge to smack him.

'No, we're done talking,' I snapped. 'This whole thing is ridiculous. Good night.'

We turned and walked away, the hurt look in Hermione's face fading slightly as she tried to smile.

'So I'll see you tomorrow then, for our study session?' Malfoy called. I stopped and spun to look at him.

'Excuse me?'

'Our Potion's work,' he said calmly, walking closer. 'We have to work on it after all.'

As he passed us, he took my hand and squeezed it lightly, smirking at me. As he did, he lent close.

'_Don't tell them anything_,' he hissed, before releasing my hand and joining Crabbe and Goyle again.

'I thought you didn't have Potions,' Hermione said curiously. I glared after Malfoy, mulling over what I should say.

'Neither did I, but I guess we do,' I lied eventually. 'So I won't be able to study with you tomorrow.'

She sighed and shook her head. 'As long as you'll be doing _some_ work. At least he's good at potions.'

'Yeah,' I said absentmindedly. As soon as she went back to her work, I said I had to grab a book and quickly slunk away.

When he'd taken my hand he'd pressed a small scrap of parchment into it. I hid behind a shelf and unfolded it, squinting to make it out in the dim light.

_And if you don't come, I'll tell him what we've been doing. 8 o'clock in the library._

I scowled. We hadn't done anything, and surely Bouilloire would believe me over Malfoy. Still... I frowned. I was worried about where he was, if he hadn't been in his dorm. Had he been moved somewhere else? Had he gone home? The last time we'd spoken I had said some pretty harsh things... what if I never saw him again?

I bit my lip and closed my eyes. Since when had things become so complicated?

--

I peered into the dormitory, it was completely deserted except for Kettle. Closing the door behind me, I walked into the room.

'Where've _you_ been?' Kettle asked absentmindedly. 'I've got a headache.'

'You don't have a head,' I informed him sarcastically. Then I paused a moment.

'Kettle, where's Bouilloire gone?'

He gave a snort of laughter, 'why, worried about him?'

It was my turn to snort, 'uh, or not. I was just wondering if he'd gone home.'

'Something like that,' he said after a moment. 'I can't tell you where, so don't bother asking.'

'I wasn't _going_ to,' I snapped. 'I couldn't care less.'

I began to rummage in my bag, thinking I could start on some of my Charms work. I'd finished Transfiguration and Potions, but still had a bit of Herbology and Charms.

'So... you aren't even worried a little bit?' Kettle asked after a moment. 'Truthfully?'

I looked at him thoughtfully. Of course I was, Bouilloire had disappeared after all. But was everything I said going to get back to Bouilloire? A sly smile spread across my face.

'Well, he's such a peculiar person. I guess I'm a little worried, that he might do himself some harm I mean. Someone like Bouilloire is probably prone to bad stupidity. He probably shouldn't be left alone.'

Kettle scoffed. 'What do you mean someone like Bouilloire? He's been perfectly civil to you, and he never says a harsh word about anyone. Besides,' he added, 'he's pretty darn handsome.'

'Nahh,' I sighed. 'He's actually pretty horrible. One time I overheard a girl confessing to him, and he turned her down _so_ horribly, that it made me feel sick.'

'You _did_ hear that!' Kettle spluttered. 'And that wasn't his fault at all, it was hers. Whoever heard of someone confessing like that? And besides, it was completely rational. He obviously didn't like her, and so he told her so.'

'Yeah but there _is_ such thing as sparing someone's feelings,' I said irritably. 'And he obviously has no manners.'

'He is ALWAYS kind and pleasant to you! And if you want to go placing blame for that confession-incident, then you should blame yourself!'

'And why on Earth would I blame _myself_?'

'He turned her down because he likes _you_!'

I scowled at Kettle, and then grinned. 'I know,' I sighed. 'He called me his girlfriend.'

'There you go,' he grumped. 'What's your problem?'

'I don't _want_ to be his girlfriend.'

Kettle gave an irritated sigh. 'And I want to know _why not_? What else could he possibly do to win your affections? He's _everything_ that anyone could ever ask for, half the girls in the school would give anything to be in your shoes.'

'Well, isn't he supposed to like me _because_ I'm not every other girl in the school?' I countered. 'Okay, sure he's good looking, smart and nice, but he's a complete fake. I want to know the real Bouilloire, not the mask. I want to know where he grew up, what his family's like. I don't want to date a _shell_.'

Kettle was silent, but for a strange ticking noise which I realized was the lid rattling.

'I, I, I think you're just spoilt!' he said eventually, sounding outraged. I threw my head back and laughed.

'Why, because I don't like being lied to? I figure you're going to tell Bouilloire everything I've said, so you can tell him one more thing from me. I do _not_ want to see him until he's prepared to be a normal human being. I'm not asking for him to reveal to me every single secret, I'm just sick of this stupid "I can't tell you because you'd hate me" business. So, just let him know how I feel.'

'I'll be glad too,' Kettle muttered.

We sat in silence for a few moments, each of us mulling over what had happened. I decided to go out and see Hermione, Harry and Ron, but when I reached the door I hesitated and turned back for a moment.

'And... tell him that he better come back soon,' I said quietly. 'Else I'll give him a good thumping.'

--

McGonagall let me out of detention early, so I just made it to the Library on time. Malfoy wasn't there yet, so I just plonked down on my chair.

I was feeling mildly excited. This time, I had news to tell him. It was almost thrilling, all this acting like spies. I shifted impatiently.

He was almost twenty minutes late, and when he finally came into the library he looked even paler than usual. I stood quickly and peered at him curiously.

'Malfoy? Are you alright?'

'I'm fine,' he snapped. 'I didn't expect you to turn up.'

'Oh, well, I only just got here,' I lied. 'I have something to tell you.'

'Oh yes? What?' he asked curiously, swaying slightly.

'Are you sure you're alright?' I asked again. 'You look... really ill.'

'Just tell me what you found out!' he said angrily, sitting down. I rolled my eyes and exhaled.

'I asked Kettle, and he said that Bouilloire _has_ gone away for a while, though he wouldn't tell me where to. Though, I'm fairly sure he wouldn't have gone home. I mean, how would he explain it to his parents? And... I do feel slightly responsible,' I admitted.

He scoffed and shook his head. 'We already knew all that, Fissure. Next time you want to tell me something, tell me something worthwhile.'

I gaped at him for a moment, before sneering. 'So then, what do you propose we do?'

'I say we look through records,' he said scanning the shelves. 'You look for any mention of him, and I'll look for things on talking kettles.'

I collected a large pile of books and took them back to my chair. Malfoy sat next to me with his own stack, already immersed in a large and musty book. I stared glumly at the books. I should be doing my schoolwork.

It wasn't long, unfortunately, until I began to feel drowsy. I was already exhausted from all the homework I had, but that coupled with the large and boring book was too much. I realized I was reading the same sentence over and over, and had been for at least ten minutes. I tried to wake myself up, but almost couldn't be bothered. Instead, I let sleep overtake me.

--

To my surprise, the next time I opened my eyes I found Malfoy's staring right back. He was smirking knowingly, and it was all I could do not to cry out in horror. I jerked away, and realized he'd been holding onto my Moodstone. I gaped at it and him, eyes flicking from one to the other. His smirk grew.

'Had a nice sleep Fissure?' he drawled. 'From the colour of that stone, I'd say you did.'

'Wh-what?' I muttered, still half asleep. The stone was an intense pink with swirls of black mixed in. I blinked at it blearily, wondering what that meant. 'Did you get this out of my robes while I was asleep?!'

'Relax,' he snorted. 'It fell out while you were tossing and turning. Hmm, pink is a very passionate colour, isn't it? As is black. One means 'love', though, and the other means hate. I _wonder_ who you could be dreaming of? It couldn't be _Garçon_, could it?'

I felt my face burning red as I struggled to remember the dream. I had no idea what was going on, one minute I'd been reading, and the next I had opened my eyes to find Malfoy's face less than ten inches away. I narrowed my eyes at him.

'Quit it Malfoy, and why haven't you been working? You're supposed to be studying, not watching me sleep.'

'And you're supposed to be reading the books, not drooling all over them,' he retorted, flushing slightly. 'And I wasn't watching you sleep.'

I didn't have a response ready, though, because at that moment I had remembered my dream. My face burned red, and my throat went dry as i opened and closed it repeatedly like a goldfish.

'What's the matter?' Malfoy snorted. 'You look ridiculous.'

Yes, I had been dreaming of Bouilloire. But he'd only played a minor role. The _real_ focus of my dream had been...

Malfoy.

He waved a hand in front of my eyes, and I managed to snap out of it. 'Wh-what?' I stammered, staring at him. He rolled his eyes.

He was still exceptionally pale, and he was shivering I noticed. Without thinking I put my hand to his forehead.

'What are you doing?' he demanded immediately, twisting away. I stared at him.

'Malfoy, you've got a fever,' I informed him.

He narrowed his eyes at me and shook his head. 'Just finish reading.'

'Look at you, you're almost translucent. You're _shivering_ for God's sake,' I insisted. 'Maybe I should take you to the hospital wing-'

'I _said_ finish _reading!_' he shouted suddenly, standing up suddenly and slamming his hand on the table. I stared at him in shock until he sat back down.

However, his outburst had attracted the attention of the vulture-like Madame Pince, who came soaring in to demand we leave. I gathered my books obligingly, and replaced the materials I'd been using.

As I turned to leave, there was a huge thud and I looked over my shoulder to find Malfoy sprawled on the ground, his armful of books spread out at his head.

'Malfoy?!' I gasped, running over. His eyes were closed, lips slightly parted. I shook his shoulder gently, and he didn't move.

'Open your eyes!' I commanded, tugging at his arm. 'This isn't funny!'

When he didn't respond again, I touched my hand to his forehead. It was still feverish, and his cheeks for flushed. I glanced around.

'Madame Pince?' I called. 'Are you there? It's Malfoy, he's sick!'

There was no answer, and I glanced from him to the direction of the door. I could always just leave... surely someone else would find him?

But he seemed pretty sick. He was so very pale, and for someone to collapse like that...

I sighed in agitation and grabbed him under the arms, attempting to haul him up. He was about a head taller than me, and he was extremely heavy.

'Madame... Pince...' I grunted, dragging him. 'The stupid git... fell over.'

She was standing at the door to the library, tapping her foot impatiently. When she saw me dragging Malfoy though, she stalked over.

'What on earth happened to him?' she asked, peering at his face.

'He just fell over,' I said shrugging. 'Please, he's really heavy, and I think he's actually sick.'

Madame Pince rolled her eyes at me. 'This better not be just to get out of a detention. Alright, I'll take him – yes I can manage him myself – you go back and finish clearing up. Yes, I can tell that you didn't quite finish.'

With that, she levitated Malfoy and wandered away down the hall, leaving me alone in the library.

Grumbling, I returned to our table and gathered up the books he'd dropped, meaning to return them. I'd put away all but one, when I glanced down and noticed it was different from the others.

While most of the books had been record books or history books, this one seemed to be more of a research book. It was entitled '_You and Your Moodstone_'.

I snorted; could it be that Malfoy had gotten the book specifically to check what my stone's colours meant? Still... it looked like a useful book. I glanced around quickly to make sure no one was watching and shoved it into my bag.

Finished cleaning, I decided to return to the dormitory. I couldn't help but worry about Malfoy a bit, what if he was really sick? He'd looked absolutely awful before, and people don't usually collapse if it's nothing serious...

I shook my head and entered the common room. What did it matter? Wizards could probably cure everything with a flick of their wands, anyway.

* * *

'I am _not_ creepy,' Bouilloire said hotly. 'I can't believe she said that.'

'Well, she did,' Kettle said bluntly. 'So! Looks like she really does hate you. Let's get out of here, go back home. Your parents are probably worried about you.'

'This is ridiculous!' Bouilloire went on, ignoring the kettle's words. He scowled deeply and began pacing.

'Stop that, it's annoying,' Kettle snapped after a while.

'Alright, maybe I wasn't telling her everything, but aren't I supposed to be mysterious? All the other girls seemed to like it. Ah, but I guess that's just it. Like she said, she isn't like every other girl,' Bouilloire exploded suddenly. 'Well, she likes me more than Ron or Harry, I think.'

'She likes me more than she likes you,' Kettle jeered. Bouilloire pulled a face.

'And she likes Malfoy more than she likes either of us,' he retorted. 'I don't see why, that git is always calling her names and insulting her.'

'At least he tells her the truth.'

'It isn't the truth! She isn't selfish or any of the things he calls her. Well, you heard him talking to those two goons, the horrible things he said.'

'I meant at least he tells her how he really feels.'

That seemed to make Bouilloire even more angry and he sat down heavily. 'I do that too! I love her, I do, I do, I do. I told her she was my girlfriend, and she outright refused me _in front_ of Malfoy.'

'Maybe she doesn't want to be _told_ she's your girlfriend,' Kettle said dryly. 'I certainly wouldn't.'

'I don't care what you think,' Bouilloire snapped. 'All I know, is that she and that Malfoy are up to something. And I _don't_ like it.'

For once they agreed on something.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Okay, I'm not too sure what's going on… but fanfiction is suddenly not letting me use my bar-separators unless i edit it here, and is putting random double spaces where they don't exist… so, I'm sorry if this ends up as a double post, but otherwise it made absolutely no sense.

I hope it is better now, but if something still doesn't make sense just send me a message and I'll try and fix it. C:

I had to rush this chapter sort of, because I'm going away hiking for six days tomorrow. I am really sorry if you have to wait a bit for the next chapter – I don't really want to go hiking all that much XD

This story is now over 50, 000 words long, and is approximately 87 pages C:

Enjoy! Thank you to everyone who read or reviews!


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Chapter Twenty Six**

I hovered over Madame Pomfrey's shoulder as she checked Malfoy's temperature. I was interested to know how wizard medicines worked (would they just spell him better?) and I was just a little worried about Malfoy.

'He just has a head cold. Has he been sleeping much?' Madame Pomfrey asked me. I thought a bit, we hadn't had a study session for a while before this one, and it wasn't like I knew him very well. So I shrugged.

'I don't know, we aren't really friends. I just came to return his books.' I held up his book-bag that I'd retrieved from the library last night.

'Oh, I just assumed, because Madame Pince said he'd been with you last night before he was brought in, and then you came to visit,' she said, raising a wry eyebrow at me. I flushed and shook my head, before scowling at Malfoy's sleeping face.

'Yes, well, he's asleep now. If you want to come back later on, I'm sure he'll be awake enough to talk to you,' she said after a moment. I sensed that she wanted me to leave and so I nodded.

'Thank you,' I said, before leaving.

I'd promised Hermione that I'd come and watch Harry play Quidditch. It was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and she was glad that Malfoy was out of action. 'Not that he's any good as a Seeker,' she had said hurriedly. 'It just means that they have to use someone who is less practiced.'

As I left the castle my thoughts turned to my Moodstone, and what it had revealed about my dream last night. _'You and Your Moodstone'_ certainly did say that the pink and black suggested love and hate, but that was as far as it went. It couldn't tell me exactly what the colours applied to, but after careful thought I had come to rest at an answer.

In my dream, as far as I could remember, it had contained almost all of my new friends. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bouilloire, and then Malfoy had shown up too. I couldn't remember exactly why, but it didn't matter.

The majority of my Moodstone had been pink, obviously standing for my friends. The black swirls obviously represented Malfoy, it was as simple as that. It was a bit of a shock to find out that I hated him that much though.

The game was just starting as I squeezed into the seat beside Hermione. Ron was on her other side, babbling excitedly to the Gryffindor next to him. I grinned at them as I sat down.

'How did it go?' Hermione asked, seeing that I still had Malfoy's bag. I shook my head.

'He was asleep, so I didn't get to talk to him. Madame Pomfrey told me to come back later too, and I sort of forgot I had it, else I would have left it there.'

At that moment Lee Jordan announced the beginning of the game, and we looked out at the pitch as the players kicked off. Harry flew high above them all, and we could see him scanning the air for the golden snitch.

As the game progressed, I could feel the excitement. I'd never really been in to sports, but I couldn't take my eyes off this particular game. Hermione kept up a whispered explanation as we followed the red ball (called a 'Quaffle') as the Chasers passed it up the pitch. A cheer went up from the Gryffindor side as it flew past Slytherin's Keeper into the middle goal hoop.

'And Gryffindor has a flying lead, the score 70 to 20!' Lee Jordan announced, and Gryffindor cheered again.

It was then that Harry dived. The crowd hushed for a moment, each pair of eyes searching for his goal.

The Snitch.

I spotted it quickly, Harry was heading straight for it. It was hovering maybe ten meters above the ground near Gryffindor's goals, lazily flitting back and forth. Slytherin's fill-in seeker (some sixth year boy) who had been dogging Harry's every move had dived after him, struggling in vain to overtake him.

All of a sudden, the snitch moved, darting away and zipping up the pitch. Harry immediately changed direction, hot on its tail. The Slytherin found it more difficult and had to slow down and pull out of his dive first, losing himself precious time.

The crowd was roaring by this point, Gryffindor egging Harry on while Slytherin booed and hissed. The few Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs who had turned up seemed to have sided with Gryffindor, so our cries almost drowned out any noise the Slytherins made.

There was a tremendous shout as Harry caught the snitch, his gloved hand closing over the golden sphere and clutching it to his chest. I found myself screaming along with the rest of the crowd, caught up in the mood.

'HUZZAAAAHHHH!' Ron shouted, pumping his fist in the air. Hermione laughed and gave a clap, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes sparkled as she replayed the game with Ron, each of them saying things like 'did you see when Harry _dove_?'

I grinned and shook my head.

--

Back in the dormitory there was many a celebration. Harry and the rest of the Quidditch team were surrounded by people who wanted to congratulate them, and Ron was standing at Harry's shoulder giving detailed (and slightly modified) descriptions of the match.

I sunk into a chair, watching them all. They were like one big red and gold family. I could see Ron's brothers, Fred and George, egging him on. Hermione was beaming at both he and Harry proudly, and the general atmosphere of the common room was warm.

'Did you go to the game?' my brother Harry asked, bouncing over. I nodded quickly.

'Yeah, Hermione dragged me along, wasn't it _brilliant_ though?'

'Yeah! We sure showed Slytherin!'  
Luke joined us, as well as Lavender and Parvati who seemed to be following both boys around. We were halfway through a conversation about whether we would beat Ravenclaw or not when Malfoy was brought up.

'I thought he was Slytherin's Seeker?' Lavender said. 'So where was he today?'

'Bet he was kicked off the team,' Luke sniggered.

'Oh!' I cried, standing up and almost knocking them off their perches on the arms of my chair.

'What's the matter?' Lavender asked, upset at having been knocked of Harry's lap.

'He's in the hospital wing, that's why he didn't play,' I said, grabbing his book bag from where I'd dropped it. 'I have to go see him, so I'll see you all later.'

'Why on Earth?!' I heard Luke exclaim.

Dinner was in about half an hour, so I didn't really need to hurry. I just wanted to catch Malfoy while he was still awake.

I walked into the hospital wing, slipping past Madame Pomfrey who was in her office talking quietly to someone. Malfoy was sitting up in his bed, a distasteful and dazed expression on his face. He jumped when he noticed me.

'What're you doing here?' he asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I held out his bag.

'You dropped it when you fainted in the library. How are you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?'

He scowled, and I wondered if he'd ever even heard of Sleeping Beauty. It was an insult anyway, I supposed.

'Is that all then?' he snapped, snatching the bag from my outstretched hand. I nodded and turned to go.

'Wait, Fissure...'

'Yes?' I turned back to him. He was rummaging in the bag, a frown creasing his brow.

'I meant to tell you, but well, things happened. I received a letter from my father.'

He held out an envelope. I took it hesitantly, wondering why he wanted me to read it. The lettering on the front spelled out 'Draco Malfoy'. I flipped it over, finding the seal already broken.  
'Why do people call you Draco Malfoy?' I asked absentmindedly as I opened the envelope, pulling out the letter. He made a peculiar strangled noise and I glanced up to find his face had taken on a hopeless and distressed expression.

'What?' I asked, worried he was choking.

'You don't even know my _name_?!' he spluttered. 'After all this time, you don't know my _name_?'  
I felt my cheeks growing hot. 'O-of course I know your name, I just, I thought your name was ... Malfoy.'  
'That's my _last_ name!' he cried, clearly outraged. 'My first name is _Draco_. Draco Malfoy!' He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

'Did you seriously not know what my name was?' his tone was slightly exasperated. I was blushing heavily. No, I hadn't known. I'd never really thought about it. Did that explain why he always called me Fissure instead of Lark? I'd never been on last-name terms with someone before.

'Uh, w-well, I, that is to say,' I struggled to find some way of excusing myself. Malfoy looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull, and I didn't want Madame Pomfrey to come in and find that I'd fried his brain with my ignorance.

'No, I didn't know,' I finished lamely. 'Sorry.'

He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes, sparks shooting out. I cringed.

'Read. The. Letter,' he said, the three words seeming to take a lot of effort. Then he slumped back onto the bed and crossed his arms in the traditional 'sulk' pose.

I opened the letter, skipping over the 'Dear Draco' and down to the part that I guessed included me.

"_On the subject of your enquiry, there is no mention of a Bouilloire Garçon currently, or in the past. He does not exist. Furthermore, are you aware that those words are French, and translate to mean 'Kettle Boy'?"_

I almost dropped the letter, and stared at Malfoy. 'What does he mean, he doesn't exist?' I cried.

'He's using a fake name – a _joke_ name. He's been playing us the whole time,' Malfoy said distastefully.  
I shook my head. 'But, why? I don't understand.'

He snorted. 'Neither do I. But if my father says so, then it must be so.'

I bit my lip, struggling through it. So he was a liar to the ultimate. I didn't know anything about him, not even his name.  
'I... I'm going to have to talk to him then,' I said determinedly. Malfoy snorted.

'We don't know where he is, remember?'

'No...' I agreed. My mind was working fast. 'I guess I'll have to wait until he comes back. Malfoy...' I added thoughtfully. 'Do you think you could ask your father to make another enquiry?'

'About what?' he asked curiously, sitting up again. I thought for another moment.

'Could he try to find out the name of the Murray's daughter? She disappeared years ago.'

I couldn't believe I'd forgotten all about her. I couldn't help but feel she was the key to this. If the Murray's knew Bouilloire, maybe he'd once met the girl?

Malfoy nodded thoughtfully. 'Yes, that would be good. While we're waiting for Bouilloire to come back, we'll do some research into Kettle, and that girl.'

At that moment Madame Pomfrey bustled in and noticed me. She stared for a moment, before rushing over.

'Miss Fissure,' she said strictly, 'I do not appreciate visitors who I have not invited in.'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' I said feigning innocence. 'You were busy in your office, so I slipped in just to return his bag.'

She pursed her lips, glancing from the bag on Malfoy's lap to me. In the end she gave a slight shake of her head, before bustling away, leaving strict instructions for me to say my goodbyes and head down to dinner straight away.

'Guess I'll be going then,' I said turning back to Malfoy who was putting the letter back in his bag. He dropped it down next to his bed and nodded at me.

'Bye Malfoy,' I said starting to leave.

'No,' he said suddenly. 'I can't believe you didn't know my name. Now, now you will have to call me Draco.'

I glanced back and blinked at him. He was scowling, and I realized I had insulted him deeply. I sighed and nodded.

'Alright, but you have to call me Lark then.'

'Alright,' he said stiffly. I felt like we were business men who had just closed a contract which neither of us were completely happy with.

'Night Ma- ...Draco.'

'...Night Lark.'

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I am really sorry that this has been so late in coming, and it's really short too. I'm just having trouble with the story- I'm not too sure if I'll be able to continue it. I'm just... getting bored of it ; I want to move on to other (better) things. Even if this IS the longest story I've written, commitment AND wordwise.

I dont feel right about walking away from it, because I guess a few of you are sort of waiting on the next chapter and so on, (and I've put SO much time and effort into this) but... it's becoming difficult to write.

Plus, it's getting to the 'fun' bit. Even if I dont actually know what's happening. XD Malfoy is starting to get... funny ;)

This might just be a phase, so please dont give up on me. I'll be posting the next chapter no matter what. C: I'll finish this story, one way or another.

_Thank you for being patient, you're wonderful. C:_


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

Malfoy was out of the hospital wing the next day, with strict instructions to rest up and get to bed on time. He didn't seem to like being mothered by Madame Pomfrey, who dogged his every footstep with a new vial of pepper-up potion, so I teased him about it all the more. I liked it when he got mad, because his cheeks would go pink, and he'd get quite flustered. It was almost, fun.

I had asked Kettle if he knew anything about the Murray's daughter, but he'd acted as if he had no idea what I was talking about, even to go so far as to question my sanity. He insisted that the Murray's had never had a daughter at all, and that I must have gotten my facts mixed up.

I was on top of homework too, thanks to Hermione, and my grades were pretty good. Malfoy helped me in Potions, which was the only reason I was passing in that. Mostly all the Gryffindors were pretty much failing, thanks to Snape's bias against them and basically anyone who wasn't Slytherin.

It sort of shocked me, how normal this life was now. When I thought back, almost half a year ago, to what I would have done if someone had waved a magic wand in front of my face, I was utterly amazed at the difference. It was like I was a new person, which was sort of correct.

New friends, new school, new family, new identity, new belongings, new ideals, new memories.

The snow was thawing outside. Spring at Hogwarts was quite amazing, strange flowers were blooming everywhere. The sun peeked from behind the clouds, though it still rained quite a lot. This made the ground very slippery, and I slipped over many a time on my way to Herbology. There was always a certain someone around to laugh at me, and crack a joke. Though I usually got the blonde-haired git back by knocking his books into a puddle, or simply asking if he'd taken any medicine, and if he felt alright, and if maybe he should sit down.

Draco and me, for he insisted I call him that now, usually spent our evenings together in the library pouring over books. It wasn't always to do with our investigation anymore now, sometimes we just did our homework. He was pretty smart in most subjects I found out. We got together about twice a week, sometimes more if we felt we were making a breakthrough.  
Hermione, Ron, Harry and I were sitting in the library doing our homework, a common occurrence as of late. The only thing that had changed was now Hermione sat beside Ron, and I beside Harry.

'No Ron, it's like this...'

'Hermione! Stop interfering!'

Harry and I exchanged glances. Though they appeared to be bickering, it was painfully obvious to see that they were still sitting awkwardly close to one another, even if neither was aware of it.

All of a sudden there was a terrible commotion from the front of the library. We looked up to see Malfoy hurriedly picking up books and shoving them back into Madame Pince's arms.

'Come back here!' she shrieked as he pelted off.  
Towards us.  
I felt myself groan inwardly. I hated having to spend time with him, even just when we studied, we still fought and disagreed just as much. Only now, there was this slight awkwardness about it.

'Lark! Come with me!' he cried upon reaching us, eyes bright.

'Not now, I'm doing my work,' I grumbled, turning away from him. His cheeks were flushed, as though he'd just run a long way.

'No! NOW!' he pressed, grabbing my arm and yanking me out of the chair. I struggled to get away.

'I said I'm BUSY, you can't just drag me away whenever you want-'

'I have a plan,' he snapped, mischief twinkling in his eyes. 'But I'll need your help.'

--

We started work on our plan immediately, throwing ourselves into it with all our might. Now that we had a definite purpose, instead of just random research, we worked much better together. I made sure to call the nights off before it got too late, not wanting Malfoy to get sick again.

I closed my book, rubbing my eyes to illustrate weariness. 'Well, I guess we better quit for tonight,' I said, eyeing him. He was bent over his work, scratching notes into a roll of parchment beside him. He glanced at me, before looking around for the time.

'It's not even late yet!' he protested. 'What are you, a baby? You always want to go to bed so early. Why?' he demanded, scowling at me over the piles of books around us. I shrugged, not wanting to reveal that I was a little worried for his health.

'I just get tired easily. You may have noticed, with my special talent for falling asleep on the books I'm studying.' I began to gather up my things, shoving them into my bag. He followed suit reluctantly, finishing off his notes and packing all his things away. We left together, heading towards the library exit.

Madame Pince stood at the door, tapping her slippered foot impatiently. A sly smile spread across her face at the sight of us.

'You realize it is almost curfew?' she asked, her voice alike to that of an animal cornering its prey. Malfoy and I exchanged a despairing glance, before nodding.

Madame Pince's wolf-like grin followed us out of the library as we shuffled past. I glanced at my wrist, wishing I hadn't left my digital watch in the common room. Was it already past curfew? We'd be in trouble if we were caught, and I'd had enough of detentions – with or without Malfoy.

We rounded a corner, and froze. At the other end next to a door that was slightly ajar sat Mrs. Norris.

'Filch's cat!' Malfoy hissed, wide-eyed. For a few moments no one moved, and the cat's yellow, lamp-like eyes simply surveyed us lazily.

Then she began to meow, a hideous yowling noise that flooded the corridor, and captured Filch's attention.

'Who's there, Mrs. Norris?' he crooned, and we could hear him moving in the room, shuffling towards the door. 'Are there students out of bed?'

Without a backwards glance, Malfoy and I turned and ran. We pelted down the corridor, trying to make as little noise as possible yet move faster than usual. We were almost definitely out after curfew now, and since a detention would just eat into our planning-time, we couldn't afford to be caught.

'This way!' I hissed, trying to head down a corridor. He shook his head frantically, gesturing the other way.

'No!' I whispered, 'that way's-'

'For Merlin's sake!' he growled, snatching at my arm. 'Just do as I say!'

We rounded the corner, straight into a dead end. Behind us we could hear Filch's labored breath, and his queer crooning to Mrs. Norris.

'They went this way? Mustn't be very smart students then... we've got them.'

'I _told you_ we should go the other way,' I squeaked at Malfoy, my voice reaching terrifying pitches. He rolled his eyes, tapping the wall with his wand. I glanced behind us, the light from Filch's lantern was looming closer and closer, any second now he'd round the bend, and then he'd see us. We were trapped, unable to go anywhere, and Malfoy had gone insane, still tapping the wall with his illuminated wand.

'Quick!' his voice was suddenly loud in my ear, and he grabbed me roughly around the shoulders, pulling me towards him. I squealed, behind us, the entire wall was shifting. It moved as if on a central pivot, spinning until it had deposited us on the other side, leaving Filch to discover an empty corridor.

'What was,' I started, but Malfoy cut me off.

'Don't speak,' he snapped, steering me down the corridor by the elbow. 'We aren't safe yet...'

We slunk our way around corners, peeking forwards and backwards, hiding behind suits of armour at the slightest sound. Eventually I was not sure as to where we were, but Malfoy seemed to know where we were going.

'Here we are,' he whispered, and I realized we were in the Fat Lady's corridor. How Malfoy had known this was where the portrait was was peculiar, but I soon realized he didn't know its exact location. And even so, it wouldn't take an idiot to figure it out. It was the only portrait that asked for a password, and it was quite obvious if you watched for a few hours, because Gryffindors often climbed in and out.

'How did you know that the wall would do that?' I asked, amazed that we'd escaped unscathed. His face took on a superior expression, and he radiated an aloof-aura.

'Well, one just has to know these things,' he said, glancing at me down his pointed nose. I rolled my eyes, he thought he was so cool.

'Again tomorrow?' he asked as I turned away. I nodded, somewhat reluctant. At least this way I could semi-control his bedtime, make sure he was resting enough.

'Sleep well,' I called as he walked away. He waved his hand nonchalantly, as noncommittal as always.

--

A week passed quickly, and before I knew it our plan was ready to put in motion. I'd spent the week holed up in the library with Malfoy, barely getting my homework done, and warding off Hermione, Ron and Harry's clear disapproval.

'I've gotta go then,' I said once dinner was over.

'Don't tell me you're meeting _him_ again,' Ron asked, disgust marring his features. I looked at the floor guiltily.

'What on Earth are you two doing anyway?' Hermione said, exasperated. I shrugged, not meeting their eyes. Malfoy had made me swear not to tell; we couldn't be sure when Kettle or Bouilloire were listening. They seemed to have a fantastic ability to hear things not meant for them.

As I left the Great Hall, Harry jogged up behind me. His cheeks were flushed and he looked around uncomfortably.

'Erm,' he murmured. 'The other two have uh, sent me to, to convey to you our, um, concerns,' he finished casting his eyes anywhere but at my face.

'What are they?' I asked wearily. He glanced around before finally meeting my eyes.

'Are you, are you and Malfoy you know, seeing each other?' he fumbled for the right words, barely maintaining a serious and controlled countenance. I stared at him, my eyes wide and surprised.

'No!' I gasped eventually. 'No we AREN'T.' Harry looked relieved, but not completely convinced.

'It's just that-'

'I don't believe this,' I cried angrily. 'No. We aren't seeing each other. I'm not doing this because I want to, I'm-'

I stopped though. It suddenly occurred to me that I _did_ want to do this. I wanted to find out exactly what was going on with Bouilloire, and if our plan worked then I would soon know everything. And, I had to admit, playing 'spies' with Malfoy was more enjoyable than I had first thought it would be. I didn't dread the long nights with him anymore, well, no more than I dreaded any long night of work.

'...Just worried about you,' Harry was saying, and I glanced up at him. He did seem genuinely worried, but it annoyed me that my slight friendship with Malfoy caused such great concern among my friends.

'I can look after myself,' I snapped. 'I don't need any of you telling me about anything!'

I spun away from him, stomping off. When I reached the library I was just cooling down and I slammed my books down on the desk next to Malfoy softer than I would have done a few moments ago.

'What happened?' he asked, glancing at the books and then at me. I scowled heavily.

'Nothing,' I muttered, reluctant to tell him that he was in fact the problem. He raised a curious eyebrow, but lowered it when I glared daggers at him.

'Anyway, I think we're ready to go to take it to the next level,' he announced. 'To commence our plan, I mean,' he added hastily, flushing all of a sudden. I blinked at him, as he quickly went on talking, careful not to mention whatever it was that had gotten him flustered.

'So, if you do your part to set it in motion – _without_ arousing suspicion of course – then, well, within a week... we should have our answers.'

I nodded, grinning slightly. My 'part' in the plan was pretty simple, just a little bit of 'acting' that wasn't completely false.

'I have some charms work to do,' I said settling into my chair and opening my books. He agreed, saying he had some work to do too.

Before too long we were both sitting and scrawling noisily with our quills, the parchment slowly filling up with inky letters. It was amazing to think that a few months, no, weeks, ago, I would have been horrified at the idea of doing homework with Malfoy. And now I didn't batt an eyelash.

Before long I had completed my charms work, and I glanced over at Malfoy, deciding to call it a night. To my surprise though, I found his head in his arms, resting on his open book.

A grin spread across my face, I couldn't believe it. For once, _he'd_ fallen asleep, instead of me. And to top it off, his face was pointing right at me.

I hesitated slightly, he looked really innocent. Strands of blonde hair falling across his face, grey-blue eyes hooded by his eyelids. Mouth slightly parted, drool congealing-

I chuckled. He was asking for it.

When I left the library, I left a note on the desk. I took all my books with me, hastily wiping my inky finger on my skirt, forgetting it would leave a mark.

He was asking for it.

* * *

'She'll come around,' Bouilloire said, his voice confident. Kettle made an annoyed sound.

'Stop saying that, and just go home. Give up. You heard what she said, and that was ages ago. She hasn't mentioned you since.'

'I'm just giving her time,' Bouilloire snapped impatiently. 'She's right, she doesn't know me. Yet. You'll see, I can be just like her precious Malfoy.'

Again, Kettle uttered an annoyed sound, mixed with frustration. 'When will you get it in your mind that she doesn't want you to be other people, she wants you to be yourself.'

Bouilloire scowled and put his feet up. 'You don't know anything, you're just a kettle.'

'At least I don't spend all my time in-'

'Shh!' Bouilloire said suddenly. 'Do you hear something?'

'Only a lack of intelligence,' Kettle snapped. Bouilloire shot him an annoyed look and settled back into a comfortable position, satisfied that he hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary.

'I'll come back soon,' he decided softly. 'She's bound to be missing me.'

'She seems perfectly content,' Kettle retorted. 'She and that Malfoy are up to something though.'

'She's calling him Draco now.'

'I know, it's repulsive.'

'Mm.'

A brooding silence ensued, in which both considered Lark's newfound 'friendship' with Malfoy. Neither thought it was a good thing.

'You should leave soon,' Kettle broke the silence. 'Not just because you're annoying me. You have to stop, stop _them_.'

'What, are you jealous of Malfoy?' Bouilloire crowed, 'don't tell me _you_ like Lark! But, you're just a _kettle_!'

'I never said I liked her!' Kettle snapped. 'I just don't think he's any good for her. We're friends,' he added as an afterthought. 'And don't worry, I _know_ I'm just a kettle. But at least I'm not like you, you who-'

'Shh!' again Bouilloire raised a hand for silence, staring around. 'I definitely heard something that time.'

'It's just someone outside the dorm,' Kettle said impatiently. They were quiet for a moment though, until Bouilloire lowered his hand.

'And you're just damn lucky, I gave you your life. You owe me your-'

'Shut up!' Kettle shouted suddenly. 'She's coming!'

'How do you know it's-'

'I'd know her voice _anywhere_. I have to live with her, remember?'

* * *

I burst into the dorm room, throwing my bag at the floor and flinging myself onto my bed. I made sure my shoulders were wracked with over-the-top sobs as I wailed. I'd told Hermione she needed to keep Lavender and Parvati out, and she agreed – though she was slightly confused. I needed solitude for this plan to work.

'What's the matter?' Kettle's voice asked, clearly alarmed, just as I'd known he would. 'You're going to drown if you keep that up,' he added dryly, and I wasn't sure if he was trying to cheer me up.

'Leave me alone!' I cried, turning away from him. 'It doesn't matter,' I murmured the last part so it was impossible to hear, and I hoped that his curiosity would win over.

'What did you say?' he asked, his voice gentle. I lifted my tear stained face to him, though I knew he couldn't actually see me.

'It's Bouilloire,' I croaked. 'I... I really miss him.'

'You do?' he asked, sounding surprised. I nodded, letting fresh tears fall. I was amazed at my fake-crying skills, I would _have_ to exploit them later.

'Of course I do!' I wailed. 'He's been gone for so long now, I, I, I'm not even sure _how_ long, but it feels like years and years. A-and, I'm trying to keep a brave face, b-but it's just eating at me, this emptiness. This huge space that's _missing_.'

I stopped crying and froze for a moment, turning my eyes to Kettle. A wolfish grin spread across my face.

'K-Kettle...' I crooned. 'You know Bouilloire... you know where he is, don't you? You can tell me... is he in the Forbidden Forest?'

'I, I can't tell you,' he said quickly. 'D'you, really miss him that much?' he asked after a pause that I filled with more sobbing.

'YES!' I cried. 'I _pine _for him. Please,' again I upturned tear-rimmed eyes. 'Tell me where he is?'

Kettle was silent for a few moments, and I worried I'd been found out for the fraud I was. Then I noticed his lid was ticking slightly.

'All, alright,' he said and my heart soared. 'I, I can't tell you where he is, but I can give him a message from you.'

'Oh, oh _thank_ you, Kettle!' I cried, scooping him up in my arms. 'P-please just tell him, tell him I want him to come back, please? Say I... I'm sorry that I yelled at him, and everything, and I just... I just want him back here. Please?'

'I'll do it,' Kettle said seriously. 'You can count on me.'

'Thank you,' I whispered, a mischievous grin spreading across my own face. I stood up, wiping my eyes on the backs of my hands, and left the room.

'I _told_ you,' Bouilloire said once he was sure she'd gone. 'Didn't I tell you she missed me?'

'I'm not so sure...' Kettle said thoughtfully. 'Do you think she's telling the truth?'

'Of course she is,' Bouilloire snapped haughtily. 'What a stupid question.'

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Yay! An update! I'm worried that the characters are becoming unstable though… they seem to be different every time I write them.

Anyway, the story _is_ starting to move, and within the next chapter or two we should have all of Bouilloire's secrets revealed… so yeah. I'm sorry if anyone feels like it's going to fast, I just feel it's been going so slowly for a long time. Plus, I really want to finish it before I lose interest in it. I'd rather give it a slightly hurried ending then just leave you guys all hanging. C:

I hope you're enjoying it, thank you for reading!

-Ecm


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

**Chapter Twenty Eight**

Malfoy lifted his head slowly, blinking wearily. At first he didn't know where he was, but as he regained his senses he remembered.

'Lark?' he croaked, his voice sleepy. Looking around, he found her gone. Her books, bag and self had disappeared, leaving him all alone. He noticed a note next to him. His fingers reached for it clumsily, creasing the corner.

_Malfoy, I've gone to complete my part of our plan._

_See you later._

_Lark._

_P.S. You deserve it._

He blinked blearily. Deserved what? And why had she gone off without waking him?

'MR. MALFOY!'

He jumped a mile in the air, knocking over his chair and turning to find Madame Pince. She leered at him, surveying the piles of books Lark had left him with.

'ARE YOU AWARE OF THE TIME?' she squawked, glowering at him. Malfoy scowled at her and began to pack his books into a pile.

'Of course I am,' he drawled. He was going to kill Lark the next time he saw her.

'Then you-'

'I am just leaving,' he spat through gritted teeth. 'And if you want to keep your miserable job, you would do well to keep out of my affairs. Do _not_ tell me what to do,' he commanded icily. Madame Pince looked unsure for a second, before setting her mouth in a hard line.

'Mr Malfoy. I will not have you _threatening_ me. You-'

'My father will have your job if you do not,' Malfoy hissed, finishing putting away the reference books. 'You will not trouble myself or Fissure any more.'

Madame Pince sniffed and pointed at the door. 'You have no authority here, _Mr Malfoy_. Now leave, before I tell Professor Snape about your behaviour.'

'Gladly,' Malfoy snapped. No doubt he had some authority, else she would have dobbed him in right then.

Tomorrow, he was going to _kill_ Lark.

* * *

I was sitting in the great hall the next morning, smugly eating my breakfast, when Malfoy marched over. I looked up at him as he towered over me, and only _just_ managed not to laugh.

'What the _hell_ did you do that for?' he snarled. I hid my smile behind my hand and pretended to cough.

'What do you mean?' I asked innocently. I glanced at Ron, Hermione and Harry behind me, and found them staring at Malfoy aghast too. Hermione's mouth twitched with a laugh, and Ron looked like he had just won the Quidditch.

'Why did you leave without waking me?'

It dawned on me that he didn't realize what I'd done. He was drawing glances and giggles from people all throughout the hall. I swallowed guiltily... I was going to get in a lot of trouble for this.

'Erm, Malfoy, um,' I searched for a way to tell him. Maybe I could gently pull him outside and do it there? Unfortunately, I couldn't erase this memory from everyone in the hall.

'Malfoy, maybe you should look in a mirror,' Harry snorted suddenly and I groaned. Malfoy's eyes snapped away from mine and to Harry's.

'What do you mean, _Potter_?' he growled. Ron was laughing so hard by now that he fell off his chair and rolled under the table. Hermione had ducked her head, but I could see her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

'What do you _mean_?' Malfoy repeated. I stood up and grabbed his elbow.

'Malfoy, maybe we should erm, go outside,' I suggested weakly. By now, almost the entire hall was filled with laughter. My face burnt red with shame; how was I supposed to know he wouldn't look in a mirror?

'Nice moustache Malfoy!' Fred Weasley called suddenly. 'Oh how envious I am!'

The Gryffindor table roared with laughter. Malfoy's face suddenly flushed with colour and he turned slowly to me.

'What did you do..?' he said thinly. I grabbed his elbow and pulled him out of the hall.

'This isn't completely _my _fault,' I hissed as I pushed him in front of a suit of armour. 'Maybe you should look in mirrors more often.'

Malfoy's face was reflected in the newly polished metal. Though his face was distorted because of the metal's shape, he could still clearly see the inky moustache I had painted across his top lip.

'I'm really sorry, I assumed you would wash your face or something. It was just a joke, I didn't mean for-'

He spun on his heel and all of a sudden had his wand to my throat. I stopped speaking immediately and began to back away slowly. He followed, keeping the wand pressed into my chin and neck.

'M-Malfoy-'

'Draco,' he said softly.

'Draco,' I corrected myself. 'Surely you don't, you wouldn't, I mean; I'm sorry. I'll do your homework, I'll be your slave for a day, anything. Just don't-'

'How would you like to grow a real moustache of your own, Lark?' he said, a malicious grin spreading across his face. I hit the wall with a thud and my heart raced faster. I had backed myself into a corner, and was stuck staring up into his eyes. The blue seemed greyer today, and colder. Had I really wounded his pride that much?

'Draco,' I murmured weakly. 'Please...'

'Put the wand down.'

The voice came from behind Malfoy. Malfoy's eyes widened, and all at once he stepped away from me and turned around.

A boy stood there, wand raised, a serious and determined look on his face. His messy black hair hung over his face, and as we watched he flicked his head to get it out of his cool grey eyes. Malfoy grinned for a second before settling for his usual superior smirk.

Our plan had worked. Bouilloire was back.

--

'Bouilloire.'

I whispered it, and Malfoy glanced at me, gritting his teeth. I couldn't believe that Bouilloire had come back so quickly, and turned up at such a brilliant time.

I found myself smiling uncontrollably. I'd missed him, even if he _had_ lied about everything. He was... a friend still. I'd get the truth out of him eventually.

'Put away your wand, Malfoy,' Bouilloire ordered. I saw Malfoy bristle and I cringed. He wouldn't like being ordered around like that.

To my surprise though, he slipped his wand into his robe obligingly. Bouilloire smirked and his eyes met mine for a moment.

Suddenly, Malfoy spun and slapped his arm around my shoulders, pinning my arms to my sides and pressing me against him. I could feel the hard shaft of his wand in the side of my neck.

'Mafoy!' I cried, struggling.

'Draco,' he corrected curtly. 'And if you don't stop moving I'll curse you right here.'

I stopped wriggling and let myself go still. Bouilloire was looking unsure, his wand was still pointed at us but I could see it was shaking. There was no way he could spell Malfoy safely as I was standing in front of him.

'Let her go, Malfoy,' Bouilloire spat vehemently, raising his wand again. 'I'll spell straight through her if I have to.'

Malfoy snorted. 'You? Spell your precious girlfriend?'

'He's not my-'

'If that's what it takes to get to you,' Bouilloire said quietly. Malfoy stopped laughing.

An electric silence descended. No one spoke, no one moved, and the only sound I could hear was Malfoy's breath in my ear. I shifted slightly, looking up at his face.

It was creased with a heavy scowl, his eyes sparkled with anger. A determined look was set on his delicate features.

At my movement, he looked down at me. Our eyes met for a second – his still defiant and mine fearful and curious – and he blushed.

Then, in that same moment, he let me go. His hand lingered on my shoulder for just a second, but then it dropped away.

'The rest is up to you,' he muttered. Then he walked away. I found that my own cheeks were flushed, this wasn't the first time I'd accidentally found myself in Malfoy's arms, but it was the first time I'd felt so... confused.

Bouilloire made as if to go after him, and I had to snap back to reality.

'Wait!' I cried. 'Bouilloire...'

He stopped immediately, as I knew he would. Glancing at Draco's retreating back, I bit my lip. I would have to figure this out later. For the moment, there was the plan to act out.

'You're... back,' I said quietly. He regarded me, before slowly approaching. His hand cupped my chin gently.

'Yes,' he whispered. I stared into his grey-blue eyes as he looked into my brown ones. It was the second time I'd found myself staring into those eyes in a matter of seconds, and yet they belonged to two different people. Bouilloire's eyes had a different feel, too. Much softer, and kinder.

'Where, where have you been?' I breathed. He looked away.

'Look, I know, we parted on unhappy terms,' he started. 'But I've been away to think, and now... I want to level with you Lark. I want to tell you everything.' He looked at me again, and I tried to mask my feelings. Glee and scepticism. Was this the real truth? If so... the plan was working insanely well.

'Really?' I asked, widening my eyes innocently. 'You mean it?'

He nodded seriously. 'But... just not yet. I need a bit of time first.'

I nodded understandingly, my scepticism growing. More like he needed to get his story straight. Either way, I'd get the truth eventually.

--

Eventually I escaped from Bouilloire and returned to the common room. Hermione, Ron and Harry were sitting around the fire talking, and they looked up when I came in.

'What'd Malfoy do?' Ron demanded, jumping up. 'Where have you been?'

'He didn't do anything,' I said grinning. 'Bouilloire stopped him.'

'Bouilloire?!' Hermione gasped. 'You mean he's..?'

I nodded and flopped down into a chair. 'Which means it worked,' I murmured. They exchanged a glance but didn't bother asking. I had become too secretive as of late, and they had learnt not to pry.

'So what happened?' asked Harry.

I explained it in detail, and regretted it when I saw their expressions.

'Malfoy,' Ron growled. 'He _would_ spell you.'

'I don't think so,' I said quickly. 'I think he was just-'

'Lark, the Malfoy's are a proud bunch,' Hermione explained gently. 'You did embarrass him a lot – people won't forget this quickly – and he just may have hurt you if Bouilloire hadn't turned up.'

'You haven't known him as long as us,' Harry agreed. I could feel my temper rising slowly. Were they patronizing me?

'And now that that good-for-nothing Bouilloire is back,' Harry mused. 'It just complicates things again.'

Hermione agreed. 'He's just going to continue being weird and possessive of Lark.'

'I wish he hadn't come back,' Ron muttered. 'And I wish Malfoy would go away with him.'

I stood up quickly, knocking my knee against the table. They jumped at my sudden movement.

'Well, maybe I haven't known him for as long, but I've certainly got to know him better than any of _you_ have. _You've_ never spent a night studying with him in the library, _you've_ never had an actual conversation with him. And as for Bouilloire, yes, okay, he's a bit weird. But Malfoy and I have a plan, and we're going to find out the truth. And,' I added angrily, 'I don't see why you have to _hate_ all my friends that aren't _you three_!'

And with that, I turned and marched out of the room up towards the dorm. Angrily, I slammed things around for a while, before collapsing onto my bed.

'Rough day?' Kettle asked dryly. I growled at him.

'Bouilloire's back,' I muttered.

'Isn't that good?' he asked.

'Of course it is! But, it brought more problems.'

A slight pause. 'Such as?'

'Me and Malfoy had a fight. Well, that wasn't really Bouilloire's fault. It was mine, really.'  
'You and Malfoy fought?' Kettle's voice was angry, suddenly. 'Did he hurt you?'

'No!' I said exasperatedly. 'Nor was he _going_ to. There was no way he'd actually spell me, even if everyone else thinks he would.'

'Lark,' Kettle started slowly. 'Maybe you should stop seeing Malfoy. I mean, from the sounds of it, there's no reason why you _should_ like hanging around with him. He's selfish and nasty, he threatens you, he blames you for everything. What's there to like?'

That was it. I had had enough. Was _everyone_ going to inform me that I shouldn't be hanging out with Malfoy? I rounded on Kettle.

'So maybe no one else can see the reason I would still like him, well, _I DONT KNOW IT EITHER_,' I cried. 'Except, I just, I just DO enjoy it, okay? I LIKE him. He CAN be nice. Sometimes,' I faltered. 'Still, it's not YOUR choice, you can't dictate who I talk to!'  
'Lark,' Kettle started frantically.

'JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!'

I stormed out of the dorm, back thought the common room (causing Harry, Hermione and Ron to jump to their feet) and I stomped my way though the Fat Lady and into the hallway, away from the voices calling out for me to wait.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Ah, I'm really sorry for taking so long. I've been stressed out with lots of things, and I've been ill on top of it. I also apologize for my writing, I seem to be getting worse and worse as time progresses

Anyway, here's your latest chapter. I'm almost up to 100 pages! And I'm on about 59, 500 words too. This is by far the longest story I've ever written, and the longest I've ever spent on the one project too.

I _will_ be continuing this to the end, so don't worry. Hope you enjoy it, sorry it's so short, and again, sorry for it being so late ;

Ecm.


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

**Chapter Twenty Nine**

I ignored Harry, Ron and Hermione for the entire day the next day. When I did see Draco, he simply nodded coldly at me and moved on without a word. Kettle was also stubbornly silent, not that I wanted to speak to him.

Only Bouilloire remained his usual self towards me. He met me after classes and asked if I wanted to walk around the grounds with him. I could see Hermione watching me worriedly behind him, so I accepted and he took my hand and led me out.

We chatted about nothing in particular; the weather, my family, subjects; tiptoeing around his promise to reveal everything to me.

We must have circled the lake about ten times when Malfoy came marching up towards us. He glanced at Bouilloire and then turned his full attention to me.

'Lark,' he said stiffly. 'I need to talk to you about Potions.'

I made to release Bouilloire's hand, but before I could his grip tightened on mine and he stepped in front of me.

'Whatever you have to say to her, you can say it in front of me,' he said coldly. I stared at him in wonder; Hermione was right. He _was_ possessive.

Malfoy looked taken aback too. He blinked from Bouilloire to me, before shaking his head slightly and leaning so that he was peering at me behind Bouilloire.

'Lark, with the project, I was just wondering if you'd started yet? Remember, if it doesn't work, we always have our backup plan,' he said, cupping his fingers around his mouth as if I was standing a long way away. Bouilloire bristled.

'What project? We don't have a Potions project.'

I panicked slightly. How would I answer Malfoy's question without raising more suspicion? Quickly, I made a decision.

I threw my arms around Bouilloire's waist and stuck my tongue out at Malfoy. They both looked as surprised as each other, Malfoy's face twisting in a snarl.

'Would you leave us alone, Malfoy?' I said faking anger. 'We're busy.'

Malfoy bristled visibly, and looked ready to whip out his wand and curse us both. Instead, he nodded tightly at me and then spun and marched away as suddenly as he had come.

I released Bouilloire, glad that that was over. I wasn't sure if Malfoy had understood me, but I could just talk to him later. I was only doing what he'd told me to do, after all...

'What a jerk,' I started, turning to Bouilloire. He was looking at me with the strangest expression, and I stopped dead in my tracks. 'What?' I asked nervously.

'Nothing...' he said, still staring at me with his peculiar expression. I glanced away at Malfoy's hastily retreating back. We were mostly alone on the grounds, since the weather was still a bit chilly. I shivered.

This seemed to snap Bouilloire out of his trance, and he took my hand again, smiling warmly at me. 'Shall we return to the castle?' he asked. Again I glanced at Malfoy as he disappeared indoors. My stomach did a little flip; what had I gotten myself into?

'Sure thing,' I replied, quickly masking my unease.

'Maybe we can meet Harry and Hermione in the library,' Bouilloire suggested. 'Oh, and Ron I guess.'

'Oh,' I said blankly, recalling my recent argument with the three of them. 'Yeah, I guess.'

--

Days passed by very quickly. I didn't have time to worry about Hermione and the others; I was so wrapped up in the plan, Bouilloire and homework. All my spare time was spent sneaking off with Malfoy to talk about progress, cuddling up to Bouilloire or sitting the library doing homework. Sometimes with 

Malfoy, sometimes with Bouilloire. Ron blatantly ignored me, and started speaking very loudly whenever I passed, Harry gave me puzzled looks, and Hermione looked like she was about to cry when our eyes met. I did feel guilty, every time I vowed that the next time I saw them I'd apologize.

But there just wasn't time.

A week after Bouilloire had come back, it was a month and a half until the end of term. I couldn't believe that a year had passed by so quickly, all the things that had happened so far... it was unbelievable.

But, it did mean that I had to work quickly. With end-of-year exams coming up, there was a lot more study and that meant less time. Malfoy had said that if we didn't have an answer by the end of the week we'd have to resort to plan B.

I knew that I should have already asked Bouilloire for the truth, but, now that it came down to it... I was frightened. There were so many loose ends to be tied up, (Bouilloire's real name/life, the Murray's daughter, Kettle) and I was worried I would receive an answer I didn't want.

And to make it worse, I was even more confused. I was supposed to like Bouilloire – at least, I had before he went away – but now... I didn't feel like I should have been feeling. I was sort of edgy around him, and though we were technically 'going out' now... I didn't feel safe.

And in a glimmer of hope, I had remembered my Moodstone, stored safely in my trunk. Of course, THAT would at least let me know what I was thinking!

When I am not wearing the stone it is a definite black. Not the same as the one it sometimes turns when I'm wearing it, but an empty black, as if it's simply a hole in reality. Almost as soon as I put it on though, it turns to the appropriate colour.

But this time, when I put it on, it remained the empty black colour without even a tinge of anything else. I was distraught and confused, muddled in my head. I couldn't talk to Bouilloire about it, him being the subject of my confusion, and I felt Malfoy would laugh at me.

Plus... he was included too. The thing was, even though I felt strange when I was with Bouilloire, I felt completely safe when I was with Malfoy. I _never_ fell asleep when studying with Bouilloire, and yet with Malfoy – or Draco, now – I could snore my head off and only feel embarrassed, rather than completely invaded.

In short, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

'Are you going to do any work?'

I jumped, jolted out of my thoughts. Malfoy was watching me curiously, his own work forgotten on the desk in front of him. We were sitting the library doing our homework. I had ditched Bouilloire after dinner. I felt my face flush and shook my head, before nodding.

'Of course I am, I was just thinking,' I said quickly, snatching up my quill. His eyebrow shot up.

'Thinking? About what?'

I stared intensely at the desk. Damn myself.

'Nothing,' I answered quietly. I felt, rather than saw, the smirk spread across his face.

'Penny for your thoughts?' he teased. 'Are you thinking about Bouilloire; your knight in false armour? Or perhaps one of your dirty blooded friends... though I haven't seen them around lately, have you finally ditched them?'

'No,' I grunted, bending over my parchment and pretending to work. 'I am simply focussing on other things.'

'Other things?' he persisted, moving right beside me and leaning closer. 'Like what?'

At that moment, he was shoved out of my face, and Bouilloire sat in between us. He slammed his book down and opened it to a random page, beginning reading without a word.

'Bouilloire?' I said, surprised. He looked up and smiled radiantly at me.

'Hello Lark.'

'Excuse me,' Draco forced through gritted teeth. 'I believe you just-'

'I've been looking for you everywhere,' Bouilloire acted as if Draco had never spoken. 'Harry and the others were in the Great Hall, they hadn't seen you but Hermione said you'd probably be here in the library with,' he paused and seemed to notice Malfoy's death-glares for a moment, though he didn't turn around. 'Well; studying,' he finished instead.

'Garçon...' Malfoy tried again.

'And here you are!' Bouilloire started up his tirade of words, keeping a bright countenance the entire time. I could see Malfoy getting steadily more annoyed behind him. I nodded and smiled along with Bouilloire when I felt I was supposed to, but other than that it was a one-sided conversation. He babbled about school, his day, his meals, anything. I guessed he was just trying to provoke Malfoy.

About halfway through, Draco stopped trying to interrupt, and instead went back to his work. He was watching out of the corner of his eye though, seething.

'Anyway, how are you?' Bouilloire asked eventually. He took a deep breath, seeming worn out.

'Oh, I've just been studying with Draco, getting ready for exams,' I said. I admit I was teasing; I just wanted to see his response.

Bouilloire's face clouded for a moment, but he quickly replaced it with his sunny smile. 'Draco? Must be a new friend of yours. Anyway, Hermione-'

'Not a new friend, he's in your dorm,' I said innocently. 'He's right behind you, actually.'

I could see Draco smirking, and I had to struggle not to grin myself. Bouilloire glanced behind him disapprovingly.

'So I see,' he said to me, his smile suddenly fake and lifeless. I swallowed guiltily.

'Seems like the typical Slytherin brat to me, not worth our founding fathers House I say,' Bouilloire drawled suddenly. I saw Malfoy twitch and I winced.

'Not worth your time, Lark,' Bouilloire snaked his arm around to rest his hand on my shoulder. He squeezed me to him, in a kind of one armed hug, and cupped my face with his hand.

'It's people like him that give our house-'

'LARK!' Malfoy screeched suddenly, standing up and tipping his chair back. Bouilloire and I jumped a foot in the air, terrified. Malfoy was angrily shoving papers and quills back into his satchel. All at once he stepped across Bouilloire, seized my arm and yanked me out of my own chair. I squealed, using him to quickly regain my balance.

'WE'RE LEAVING!'

'But..!' I tried, glancing back at Bouilloire and my things. 'Mal-'

'DRACO!'

'But _Draco_..!'

He ignored me and instead pulled me out of the library. I glanced back as we left; Bouilloire was still standing beside our desk completely shocked. Madame Pince was marching towards him, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of her catch.

'LARK!' Bouilloire yelled suddenly. Malfoy's grip tightened, and all of a sudden he was running. I almost tripped on my own feet, yelling for him to release me.

'This is INSANE!' I screamed, struggling to keep up.

'RAN FASTER!' he yelled back, swearing.

We lost Bouilloire before he could even catch up. I suppose Malfoy knew his way around the castle better than either of us, so it stood to reason. When we stopped running we were standing in the middle of an empty corridor, panting hard. I was bent double, hands resting on needs, greedily gasping air. Draco leant on a wall, in much the same state.

'Why the... hell did... you do that!' I gasped, glaring at him. 'Malfoy-'

'Draco-'

'You get crazier every time I see you.'

I straightened up, having caught my breath and fixed him with a proper glare. He narrowed his eyes right back.

'He was just annoying me, I was trying to talk to you,' he grumbled. I rolled my eyes.

'Yeah, that's what he was trying to do,' I snapped. 'It didn't mean you had to do that. If you want this plan to work, then you have to let me do my job. Just ignore the stuff he said about your House, it wasn't exactly clever anyway.'

'But, Lark,' he whined. 'I don't care about the things he said about me, he was, he was...' he trailed off, looking darkly at the carpet. He pouted.

I snorted; he looked like a little boy who was getting reprimanded for running in the house. He looked up sharply and I smothered my amusement with my hand.

He advanced, scowling at me. 'It's not FUNNY, I just, I was,' he spluttered to an end again, seeming unable to finish his sentence. I smirked.

'Anyway, I should get back to my things. They're still in the library, where I left them, before you took me on this wild-'

I stopped suddenly. I had turned to leave, when he had suddenly reached up and cupped my chin with his hand, just like Bouilloire had done in the library. He turned my head back to face him, and I felt my eyes go wide. Heart racing like a subway train, my mouth dry, I couldn't tear my gaze from his. His hand felt soft and cool on my cheek, his face was unreadable. His looked just as surprised as I did, staring in awe at his hand on my face, as if he couldn't understand why it was there.

At that moment, a group of first years spilled into the hallway, chatting loudly and playfully pushing each other around. I leapt away from Draco, and we both stood a metre apart, awkwardly waiting for the hallway to empty. When it did, I took another step away from him, glancing at the floor.

'I better go,' I said emptily. 'Thanks for the study session.'

He didn't say anything, just turned and walked away. I did the same, but in the opposite direction.

What had just happened?

--

I was so weirded out that I forgot to go back to the library, and instead ended up in the common room of Gryffindor tower. Dazed, I decided I'd get my books in the morning and instead wandered up to bed. The common room was still filled with people, Harry, Ron and Hermione included, but no one noticed my arrival and no one noticed my departure. I crawled into my bed and lay still on my side, staring at the wall.

I hadn't moved, nor had I drifted any closer to sleep by the time Hermione came up. I felt her eyes on me for an instant, and I tried to get up. But I seemed to have frozen, and all I could do was lie there.

She sighed, and I heard her climb into bed.

I must have been lying there for hours, not moving, not sleeping, before I finally came out of my paralysis. I sat up and blinked a few times, before letting out a little laugh. Whatever had happened... well, it hardly mattered. I had objectives to complete anyway. No doubt Malfoy would do his usual trick of pretending it never happened, and we could go back to how it had been before.

As I closed my eyes, sleep finally descending, it occurred to me that something had changed. The way I thought about him... was different. Something was wrong.

'Oh God,' I whispered. 'Put it back the way it was.'

--

I opened my eyes to a bright, rectangular room. The walls were slate grey and straight, rising up to form a neat box. Glancing around, I couldn't find the door.

'Strange,' I murmured, and my voice refracted off the walls, bouncing in all directions. It hit me square in the face and I staggered, falling back onto the bed.

It was placed in the centre of the room, and was the only thing in there other than myself and the walls. Light came from somewhere, though I didn't know where exactly. There were no windows, no lights. No openings. Just the room.

'Hello?' I called, bracing myself for the echo. This time, nothing came.

'Hello?' a voice answered back, though it wasn't my own. I glanced around, but couldn't see anyone. But the voice...

'Kettle?'

At that moment, the scene changed, and I was suddenly in my room lying on my bed and talking to Kettle. It was a conversation I remembered having a few weeks ago, though I didn't know what we were talking about anymore. Kettle was speaking, but his voice was strangely muted, echoing like he was at the bottom of a deep, dark well.

I sat up, looking around in confusion. I felt an immense weight around my neck, and looked down to see my Moodstone. To my surprise, it was no longer black. The colour seemed brighter too, along with its size. It glowed a deep purple, lighting up the room.

'What does purple mean?' I wondered, my voice sounding like Kettle's.

The scene changed, Kettle vanished and I was suddenly sitting on the Hogwarts train on my very first day. Harry, Ron and Hermione were watching me with wide eyes as I explained about how I came to discover my wizarding heritage. The voices were still muted and strange.

I stopped, mid-sentence, confused about what I was supposed to say next. I couldn't remember... I couldn't...

Again, I looked down at my Moodstone. It was pink and purple, with flecks of yellow. I smiled, I knew pink meant love, and yellow meant excited. Purple maybe meant nervous? Or... friends?

The scene changed violently this time, and I found myself standing in the hallway with Bouilloire. I was yelling at him, and he was spinning his lies.

'Bouilloire!' I cried, in surprise. 'What's all of this? Where am I? What-'

I snatched up the Moodstone; it was black flecked with red and maroon. I blinked a few times; it wasn't the empty black, which meant I was feeling hate. The red suggested anger? And the maroon probably spoke of a dislike...

'Are these the feelings for now?' I asked Bouilloire, who was already fading. 'Or my feelings in this memory?'

I was sitting out in the backyard of my house, in the sandpit. Luke and Harry were digging a hole for buried treasure. I stared down at my six-year-old body, and marvelled. The memory was so clear.

Shaking off the distraction, I pulled my Moodstone out of the pocket it had appeared in. Pink, it was pink.

'Love,' I whispered.

While I had been looking at the stone, the scene had changed around me. Now I was sitting in the library, staring down at my Potions notes.

'Lark?'

I jumped; this voice was true, and not distorted. I jumped up and threw my arms around Draco before I could stop myself.

'Where am I?' I whispered. 'What's going on?'

Without hesitating, he wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face in my neck.

'You're asleep, you moron,' he said tenderly.

--

I sat up, uttering a cry of horror. The sun was streaming through the window and I was covered in a cold sweat, my chest was heaving as I gasped for breath.

What a _horrifying_ dream. It was sickening and wrong. I shuddered in disgust, throwing my bedclothes off and running into the bathroom.

I was glad everyone was already up. I didn't feel like retelling my dream just yet. Leaning on the bathroom bench, I paused to let my mind catch up. It was still in a dream-fog, but slowly it evaporated and I was able to think clearly.

I was also lucky it was a Sunday, else I would have been horribly late for class. As it was, the peace and quiet of the dormitory allowed me to think. Tip-toeing back to bed, I climbed in and lay still, staring at the ceiling.

Almost without thinking I sat up and reached under my pillow for my Moodstone. I slipped it over my neck, holding it in my hands.

It stayed black, but I wasn't discouraged. Determinedly, I focussed my thoughts on Professor Snape, someone whom I definitely had decided feelings for.

Immediately the stone began to change. A murky maroon soon covered its surface, and I grinned in triumph. All I needed to do was focus on something singular, instead of everything. For the moment, it seemed I was too mixed up to look at my 'overall mood'.

Next, I focussed on Hermione. It changed to pink and purple, a swirly mixture. I grinned, purple _must_ mean friends. Pink was love, of course. I vowed to make it up with Hermione and the others as soon as I could.

Biting my lip, I hesitated. If this worked, maybe it would answer a few of my questions. I found myself torn between two wants, a want for hate and a want for love. Love would make things simpler, whereas hate pointed towards other things...

I closed my eyes and focussed on Bouilloire. After a second, I opened my eyes and looked down.

The stone was exactly as it had been in the dream, red, black and maroon. I felt my heart give a jittery shudder.

'Sh-surely that's everyone,' I said nervously, making as if to take it off my neck. But, in doing so, I had already accidentally thought about him. The stone was already changing before my eyes. A gasp caught in my throat.

It had turned back to empty black.

* * *

**Author's Note**

I have only JUST noticed that all my paragraph separators disappeared in my last chapter... I'm so sorry! That must have made bits confusing ; It keeps doing it to me... I always forget to edit it on the site...

Anyway, it's fixed now. C:

There, I promised to get the next chapter up faster than last time, so I did.

It's kinda crazy… I've had exams so the only time I have been able to write has been between 11pm and onwards XD

Well… looks like this story is drawing to a close, along with their school year. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, in the NEXT chapter we have definite changes… c:

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/alerted so far!! Your words and actions are what makes me continue the story C:

-ECM.


	30. Chapter Thirty

**Chapter Thirty**

I ran down the stairs into the common room, unsure of what to do. I desperately needed to talk to someone, but I had no one left. Because I hadn't made up with Hermione, Harry and Ron, I couldn't talk to them. The two people I was closest to other than them, Malfoy and Bouilloire, were the problem, so I definitely couldn't talk to them either.

It wasn't a problem that was severe enough to go to a teacher over, either, not that discussing my love-life with one of Hogwarts' professors sounded like such a gem of an idea. A ridiculous image of Professor Snape and I sitting in large comfortable chairs in front of a fire, discussing the perfect ways to talk to boys leapt into my mind.

Shaking my head, I sunk into one of the couches in front of the fire. Even my brothers were out of the picture. They disliked both Malfoy _and_ Bouilloire.

Burying my face in my hands, I wished that I'd never gotten into this stupid deal with Malfoy. That way I wouldn't have fought with Hermione and the others, and I'd never have grown so distant. AND, I'd never have developed this... this... this weird feeling.

I decided, that while I was going about blaming everyone else for all my mistakes, I may as well blame Kettle for revealing this whole stupid secret. If he hadn't opened that door for me, I could have still been living my deluded life as a muggle. No magic, no talking crockery, no black-haired boys with fake-names and screwed up identities, no blonde-haired boys who confused all the sense and logic out of me.

My eyes widened, and I stopped twisting the hem of my robe. Just because all of my human friends couldn't understand didn't mean Kettle wouldn't. Sure, he hated Malfoy just as much as the rest, but I could also trust him to keep a secret. Plus, somehow telling him wasn't quite as daunting as telling anyone else. For one, he couldn't beat Malfoy up even if he wanted to.

I leapt out of my chair racing up the stairs two at a time, startling the students around me and almost knocking over a first year who was just coming down the stairs. I burst into our dormitory room, and for a moment thought I'd heard voices inside.

'What on-!' Kettle exclaimed. I stared for a moment, straining my ears to hear the voices before shaking my head; I was imagining things.

'Hello,' I said awkwardly. 'Um, how are you?'

I got the distinct impression that, had he been equipped with one, his jaw would have been hanging open. As it was, his lid just twitched at me.

'Wh-what?' he gulped. 'I'm uh, I'm good. And, how are you?'

'Oh, I'm good,' I replied, brushing my hair behind my ear. I glanced around once more to make sure the room was empty.

'Are we, alone?' I asked him. 'Or did one of the other girls come up here?'

'No, we're alone,' he said hesitantly. 'But Hermione did ask me to check that you were alright. That was before you woke up, though.'

'Oh, good.' I couldn't bring myself to broach the subject. Maybe I was mistaken in my feelings? I clenched my hands into fists, sitting on the floor and pulling Kettle into my lap.

'What's the matter? Did you have something to tell me?' Kettle asked after a while.

'Oh, no,' I said quickly. 'I just, just realized that we didn't speak much.'

'Right,' he said. 'But weren't we talking last night? About your exams, and your nerves.'

'Oh... yes,' I said lamely. 'B-but, what about you? How are you enjoying Hogwarts, Kettle?'

'...Well, it's certainly different from the Murrays. For one, I am not treated half as nicely as I was there. I haven't been polished in a while, you know.'

I rubbed him with a fistful of my robe, apologizing for his rough treatment. He started talking about different polishes, and how once, Mr. Murray had accidentally used shoe polish on him.

'Kettle,' I said eventually. 'There _was_ something I wanted to talk to you about, actually.'

'Oh?' he said curiously. I nodded slowly.

'Well... it's sort of a sensitive topic... so I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone. Especially not Bouilloire.'

'...Oh.' This time, his voice was slightly reluctant.

'You see-'

'Um, wait, Lark,' he interrupted. 'I uh, don't really know if you should tell me.'

'Why not?' I asked, bewildered.

'Well, I might tell Bouilloire,' he answered. 'I mean, I usually tell him everything. You told me that yourself.'

'Yeah but, you'd keep a secret if I asked you to, wouldn't you?'

'Of course I would, I'm not some _common_ kettle,' a touch of arrogance entered his voice. 'B-but, I just, to be on the safe side, maybe you shouldn't...'

'Please? You're my only friend I can talk to,' I begged, 'and I _really_ need to talk about it.'

'Don't,' his voice was more decided. 'I don't want to hear it.'

'I'll tell you anyway,' I snapped, determinedly. 'I know you won't tell Bouilloire, and I think you're just being difficult.'

'No really, what would you say if I told you I was spelled so I couldn't keep a secret from him?'

'Then I'd ask you why you'd promise to keep a secret for me, when you obviously can't.'

'W-well,' he faltered again. 'I just...'

'Kettle, you see-'

'Lark I'm begging you! Bouilloire is-'

'I think I love Draco.'

Kettle just about exploded with noise. His lid went flying, almost knocking my head off along with it. I dropped him as he began to roll around the floor like Peeves had possessed him.

'I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ME!' he roared, and the room shook with the force of his words. I backed away towards the door, terrified. What on Earth was he doing? Why was he making such a big deal about it? It was just a secret!

'NOW YOU'LL SEE! WHAT HAPPENS NEXT IS ALL YOUR FAULT!' My hand found the doorknob; it bucked and warped along with the room. I wondered if it was an earthquake, or if this was just Kettle going crazy. 'I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ME!' he repeated.

I flung open the door and ran out yelping, tripping and falling down the stairs. To my surprise, outside the room was normal. No shaking, no thundering noises, and no crockery tantrums. I picked myself up from the floor, aware that I was being stared at, and took a deep shuddering breath.

Now that I'd done that, it was time to make up with my friends. And, I added, time to tell them everything.

* * *

I found them in the library, where I'd thought I might. Hermione had them all undergoing a strict study regime; I'd overheard Ron complaining about it at dinner the other day. Unfortunately, Hermione had heard too.

They ignored my presence until I sat down at the table opposite them. Even then, Ron only wrinkled his face at me before going back to his essay.

I took a deep breath. This was easier than telling Kettle about Malfoy, which was certainly saying something. A reluctant grin broke out across my face.

'I'm sorry,' I said it plainly, meeting each of their eyes consecutively. 'I realize you guys are only trying to help, and it was my fault that I overreacted like that. I shouldn't have yelled, and I most definitely should not have treated you as I have. My behaviour has been, as McGonagall would say, appalling.'

I took another breath, Hermione was smiling at me, which was good. I bowed my head down low and pressed my forehead to the table.

'And so,' my voice was slightly muffled by my collar, 'I was hoping that you three would please forgive me, and that we could go back to being friends.'

I waited for a moment, before raising my head. Hermione's eyes were slightly brighter than usual, and I felt a twinge of guilt. Ron was scowling at me.

'On one condition,' he said gruffly. 'No more stupid secrets with _Malfoy_.'

I grinned. 'Sure. No more stupid secrets.'

'With anyone else, too,' Ron added. I nodded, and shook his hand in a very business-like way.

'Alright then, we forgive you,' Harry said. 'Well, for this incident we do. I'm not sure Hermione will find it quite as easy to forgive you for neglecting your revision.'

'Oh,' I laughed. 'Can't I grovel my way out of that too?'

'Absolutely not,' she placed her hands on her hips. 'I've got your timetable in my bag somewhere, just give me a sec and I'll grab it for you...'

'Wait,' I said, glancing around us. 'Before that, I want to be completely honest. And so, as long as you promise not to tell anyone, I want to tell you exactly what I've been doing with Malfoy.'

Ron screwed up his face again, 'do we really want to hear?' I heard him mutter. Harry kicked him under the table.

* * *

Malfoy arrived at potions after me, and he grimaced when he saw me standing in the hallway with Hermione. I pretended not to notice him at first, turning to face the wall and clenching my fists. This was the first time I'd seen him since the dream, and the hallway incident... I touched my fingers to my cheek where he had, blushing furiously. My heart was pumping fit to burst as though I'd just run my way through the Forbidden Forest.

'Lark,' Malfoy said shortly with a curt nod before continuing on to stand with his friends Crabbe and Goyle. I ignored the suspicious look Ron shot me, and continued to stare awkwardly at the stonework in the walls.

I may have revealed our plan to them, but I hadn't said anything about my feelings. I didn't really know what they were myself, and it didn't seem all that important.

'Hi, Lark,' another voice said, and I knew it belonged to Bouilloire without looking up. I spun to face him with a grin – it was so much easier to pretend happiness to him – and felt my heart almost leap out of my throat.

His expression was semi-furious, and he was glaring side-ways at Draco. I could feel that morning's breakfast turn to ice in my stomach and I struggled to look like nothing was wrong.

'Hiya,' I said quickly. 'I'm sorry about Saturday-'

'I need to talk to you,' he interjected before I could finish. I clenched my hands behind my back to stop them from shaking.

At that moment though, Professor Snape appeared in the halls and ordered everyone into class. I could have _kissed_ him, I was so thankful. Giving Bouilloire an apologetic (and secretly relieved) wave, I turned and filed into room along with the rest of the class.

I took my place alongside Malfoy, careful to leave a sufficient gap between him and I. Taking a deep shuddering breath, I surveyed my situation.

Most likely Bouilloire was just angry about me running off the other day with Malfoy. There was, unfortunately, a chance that Kettle had told him my secret. I could have kicked myself for it all. _Why_ had it been so important to tell him? Couldn't I have kept it to myself instead of causing more trouble?

Kettle's words from yesterday floated into my head. _What happens next is all your fault!_ What was going to happen now? I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

'What's the matter with you?' Draco asked suddenly. 'You've gone green, you aren't going to be sick, are you?' a hint of panic entered his voice. I snorted despite myself and shook my head without looking at him.

'No, but if I was, it would be at you.'

Before he could reply though, Snape began to direct the class on today's lesson. I zoned out, opting to twiddle my thumbs and worry instead.

Malfoy interrupted my thoughts again, this time with a sharp kick to my ankle. 'Go get the ingredients,' he snapped. 'And would it hurt you to try to concentrate even for a moment?'

'Sorry,' I muttered standing up.

_What happens next is..._

Looking at the ingredients list, I hurriedly collected everything we would need. I pushed my worries out of my head and resolved to concentrate on them later. For the moment I had my studies to concentrate on.

_...All your fault!_

The lesson passed swiftly after that. The potion's ingredients were chopped and sliced in the appropriate ways and added to the cauldron.

'Stir three times clockwise, eight times counter-clockwise,' I read. '...Can I stir it this time?'

'No,' Malfoy pulled his wand out of his robes. 'I'll do it.'

'But you do it all the time!' I exclaimed.

'Exactly, I know how to do it properly.' He directed his grey-blue eyes right at me, a sneer curling his lip.

'I need to learn it too though,' I protested, quickly looking away from him. Meeting his eyes sent shivers down my spine and caused my stomach to churn.

At that moment there was a huge explosion from the other side of the classroom, and the contents of Neville's cauldron rained down on the entire class. Shouts of surprise went up, and Snape swooped in to remedy the situation. Students swarmed over to see what was happening, but before I could go Malfoy grabbed at my sleeve.

'What's the matter with you today?' he snapped. 'You won't even look at me.'

'Nothing's wrong,' I said turning my face towards the commotion behind us. 'I just-'

'_Why_ aren't you _looking_ at me?' he demanded.

I tried to pull my arm away, but he grabbed my chin and turned me to look at him. His face was petulant and irritated, and again he reminded me of a spoiled child.

We were so very close, and so very still. The class hadn't noticed anything, being too intent on Neville's demise, and around us the flurry of movement faded into the background. It was like those moments in movies where the couple realize that they share the same feelings, only this was all wrong.

He was standing on my foot, and I was tempted to bite him to make him let me go. We both snarled at each other, locked in mortal combat.

'Lark.'

I realized that not everyone in the class was watching Snape embarrass Neville. Bouilloire stood to the side of us, I could barely see him out of the corner of my eye. Too late I realized what it looked like Draco and I were doing, too late I remembered yesterday's events.

Malfoy let me go immediately, stepping away and turning back to the cauldron. I thought for a moment that his face looked flushed, but I didn't have time to see because at that moment Bouilloire had grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him. I tried to speak, to say hello, but all I managed was a squeak, because as I was tugged into his arms he bent his head down to meet me and our lips crashed together in an awkward kiss.

My eyes widened fit to fall out of my head and my knees buckled. His arms were tight around me, holding me to him.

Time had frozen as still as I was, but in a moment it was all shattered. There was a sudden, inhuman cry, and the next thing I knew I was falling through the air and rolling into a desk. Blinking in confusion, my eyes met the strangest sight they had ever seen.

Malfoy was sitting on Bouilloire's stomach, a fistful of Bouilloire's shirt in his hands, and he was pummelling him with his bare fists. Bouilloire roared back and pushed him off, hitting back. Their wands lay forgotten on the floor as they went all-out with brute force.

The class' attention had switched to us, as well as Snape's. His black eyes blazing with fury, he swept in and hissed a quick incantation. With a bang, the two boys went flying off in opposite directions.

The class, which had been buzzing with cries of delight and/or wonderment, had abruptly ceased all sound. Snape sneered at us as Bouilloire and Malfoy hurriedly straightened their torn uniforms.

'You and you,' Snape growled menacingly, pointing at Bouilloire and Draco. 'And _you_.' I started in surprise, his gaze coming to rest upon me. His lip curled in disgust, and I realized that I had maybe been involved in some small way.

_What happens next is..._

'Detentions every day for this week,' Professor Snape announced. I groaned, glaring at both of them. They were too busy glaring at each other to notice me though.

_...All your fault!_

* * *

The lesson was over by now, and the class filed out still sniggering and peeking at us over their shoulders. Snape gave us a lecture about behaviour, muttered something to Draco and Bouilloire about 'expecting better' from Slytherins, and gave me such a nasty look that I almost burst out laughing.

In truth, I actually found the entire situation more funny than upsetting. Things seemed clearer now than they had for a long time. Kettle _had_ told Bouilloire, who had become jealous, and so when he saw Malfoy and I so close he had gone insane and kissed me. Then, Malfoy had become infected by the insanity (like the other day in the library) and had attacked him.

Or something like that.

_I have a detention, because two Slytherin boys were fighting over me_.

Like I said, the whole thing was hilarious.

'You're dismissed,' Snape snapped, pointing towards the door. Still mulling things over, I followed the two boys out. I _was_ angry, I decided. On top of the detention, it was horribly embarrassing. Also, Bouilloire had no right to just _do_ that without my permission.

We walked in silence through the corridors, but before we'd gone too far, Bouilloire rounded on Malfoy.

'What the _hell_ did you do that for?' he shouted, fury burning in his blue eyes.

'What are you talking about?' Malfoy snapped back through gritted teeth. I was amazed at him though, usually he had so much self control. So what had caused him to fly at Bouilloire like that? I knew they hated each other, but...

'_Attacking_ me, getting us a detention.' Bouilloire stepped towards me and our shoulders brushed.

I leapt away without meaning to, but didn't regret the action. It seemed they'd both remembered my existence, and I fixed them both with an angry stare.

'I can't believe you got me another detention!' I exclaimed. 'What's this, the sixth one? Every time I go near you, I get in more and more trouble.'

Malfoy stared at the floor, simmering, but Bouilloire scowled at him and again moved to stand beside me. 'I don't know _what_ his problem is,' he sighed. 'But-'

He had attempted to put his arm around my shoulder, but I'd shoved him away as hard as I could. He stared at me in shock, as did Draco.

'Not _him_, _both_ of you!' I shouted. 'And what the _hell _did you do that for?'

'Wh-what?' Bouilloire stammered.

'You, you...' I waved my hands frantically, my face flushing. 'You _kissed_ me, WHY would you do that?'

'Well, because, you're my girlfriend,' he turned his face to the floor. 'I though... I thought that's what boyfriends and girlfriends did.'

'Not just like _that_, in front of the class, and Snape, and, and,' I tried not to look at Draco. 'You don't just force someone like that. And...' I took a deep breath and turned away from both of them. 'I don't want to be your girlfriend anymore.'

'What?' Bouilloire exploded. 'You're, what, breaking up with me or something?'

I grimaced. Such a stupid word.

'Yeah, yeah, I guess we're breaking up.'

He was silent for a moment, and I wondered if he'd gone. Before I could turn to check though, he spoke again.

'Is this because of what Kettle told me,' he asked. It was more of a statement, his voice was flat. My heart leapt and I quickly shook my head.

'Kettle's an idiot,' I muttered. 'But no, this has nothing to do with that.'

'You're lying,' he said quietly, but firmly. I didn't move, didn't face him.

Malfoy was watching our fight with a curious look on his face. I wondered desperately what he was thinking.

'Fine then,' Bouilloire snapped. I finally gathered the courage to look at him, and found a sight that wrenched at my heart. He was close to crying, and he stood there with his eyes blazing at me, ashamed and upset. I realized then that I had finally made him angry at me.

He took a deep breath and brushed his sleeve across his face. When it came away he was more composed, and he even managed to smile at me.

'Fine,' he said softly. 'I hope we can still be friends.'

Without waiting for my answer he turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner. I felt awfully guilty, but he couldn't just... he couldn't really expect me to... plus, I'd never actually...

I became aware of a presence directly behind me, and I spun to find Malfoy standing right there. He was staring down the hall after Bouilloire, eyes narrowed.

'We're doing the new plan now,' he informed me. 'The back-up.'

'What?' I gasped. 'Please, Malfoy, can't we just...'

'DRACO!' he yelled, and I flinched. 'Draco. And no we can't. Getting him to trust you and tell you was a stupid plan from the start, and now we're doing _my_ plan. You dumped him anyway, how do you expect the plan to work?'

'Well, if I befriended him properly...' I protested weakly. He shook his head stubbornly.

'No, it's not going to happen. He'll spin you more lies about being in the 'Witness Protection Program' and continue snogging you in class,' venom filled his last words, and he again glared up the passage. 'And so, plan B is enforced from now on. At the end of this week.'

I nodded in resignation. 'Okay, fine. Draco...'

'What?'

'Why did you do that?' I asked curiously. 'Hit at Bouilloire like that, was it because-'

'He just annoys me,' he interrupted, turning away quickly. 'I'm not sure why I...'

I waited for him to finish, but he seemed quite content with what he'd said. I sighed.

'Alright. Guess I'll see you for that detention later.'

'Goodbye, Lark.'

'Goodbye, Draco.'

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Sorry for the long wait, it seems that when I'm on school holidays I do LESS writing than when I'm at school.

Anyway, I have been waiting to write this chapter for quite a while now C: The next one, too. XDD

I really do hate the way when I post it, it deletes all my paragraph thingies. And then it wont let me put them back in. Hopefully now it's a little bit clearer ;

I hope you enjoy it, and I thank you very much for all the reviews and favorites I get, you're all wonderful!

- Ecm


	31. Chapter Thirty One

**Chapter Thirty One**

When I walked into the detention, it most certainly wasn't what I'd expected. There was a small class set of dirty cauldrons to scrub, and Snape stood impatiently at his desk. What was surprising though was that both Draco and Bouilloire smiled at me when I came in. Well, as much of a smile as Draco could muster, which I guess is actually a grimace.

'You're late, Fissure,' Snape drawled. 'Ten points off Gryffindor.'

'Sorry, Sir,' I said darkly. 'I was held up-'

'No excuses,' he said. 'For today's detention, you will be scrubbing all of these cauldrons. When they are finished, you may go, but not a moment before. And please,' he added snidely, 'don't make this a race, boys.' He was glaring at Draco and Bouilloire, who were both eyeing each other competitively.

He produced the sponges from a mystical place in his robes, and gestured to three buckets of soapy water. I stared in dismay at the cauldrons. Snape must have made a really _foul_ potion in the last class because it looked like the grime would not come off even if you soaked it for ten years.

I snatched up my sponge, turning my back to the two boys. So, Bouilloire was happy with me now. He was so frighteningly _bi-polar_ sometimes, one second sad, the next happy. Furious, then cordial. I shook my head and sighed.

With less than a month to go before the summer holidays, I had a lot to accomplish. Along with my exams, I had to get the truth out of Bouilloire, and figure out what was going on inside my head. Otherwise, I'd spend my holidays feeling miserable, constantly wondering. And pining. I had the strangest feeling I'd be pining for someone.

I glanced over my shoulder at Draco, but met Bouilloire's eyes instead. He peeked to check that Snape wasn't looking and then gave me a wave. Slowly, he shifted his cauldron to be beside mine.

'Hiya,' he whispered, almost inaudible. 'Well, this is sure fun.'

I found myself grinning, despite myself. Even if he was a weird, emotionally unstable, lying, false-named, Kettle-befriending individual, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. He made me feel better, anyway. Now that I wasn't pretending to be his girlfriend at least.

'It could have been worse, though,' I said back. 'We might've had to write lines, or something.'

Bouilloire shrugged. 'Snape doesn't believe in useless detentions. That's why we always do 'constructive' stuff.'

'Oh, I see.'

There was a chink, and I jumped to find that Draco had moved his cauldron to the other side of me. He didn't say anything, and only continued to scrub the pot vigorously. Bouilloire turned away with an annoyed expression.

I smiled to myself without knowing why I was especially happy.

'Lark,' Draco hissed. I leant closer, and he checked that Bouilloire wasn't listening. 'I want you to arrange to meet him tomorrow after detention in the Charms classroom. I'll have everything ready for the plan.'

'What if I don't want to?' I whispered back. He arched an eyebrow and then glared at me.

'This was your idea; you're the one who wanted to know the truth. You couldn't do it, so now we're doing it my way. You can't back out now, not when we're so close.'

His words reminded me that we were sitting pretty close to each other, and my face flushed. I turned away slightly and grumbled at him, 'you make me feel like a whore, or something.'

I saw his surprised expression out of the corner of my eye. 'How am I doing that?' he gasped. Bouilloire and Snape looked up suddenly, both of their eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'Malfoy, Fissure, Bouilloire, separate please,' Snape murmured. 'And stop that incessant chatter. You shall scrub in silence unless you wish to go talk to the headmaster instead.'

'Hmm, tea and a chat with Dumbledore or scrubbing in silence with Snape? Such a hard decision,' I grumbled, grinning at my accidental alliteration.

I stuck my tongue out at Draco as we moved apart, and he almost returned the gesture. At the last second though he seemed to reign himself in and settled for a snide smirk instead.

I turned away, still with a huge smile.

After the detention, Draco left Bouilloire and me alone, choosing to depart in the opposite direction. He said he had something to do, but he gave me a meaningful look which suggested that he just wanted me to hurry up and invite Bouilloire for our plan. That annoyed me slightly – it was always harder to trick Bouilloire when I wasn't angry at him. And at the current moment he was just being nice.

'Well, that was awfully tedious, wasn't it?' he joked, as we made our way to the Gryffindor common room. I nodded, laughing.

'I hope we aren't scrubbing pots all week, I'll go stir crazy,' I admitted. 'Even if it's just re-arranging the store room again, anything would be better.'

'Again?' Bouilloire asked curiously. 'Just how many detentions _have_ you had with Snape?'

'Ah, right,' I laughed nervously. 'That was just... a long time ago. I had a detention with Draco in the storeroom.' I felt my face turn hot at the memory and I struggled to remain normal. Bouilloire had already noticed it though, and his annoyed face made my stomach feel sick.

''Draco' now, is it? Not 'Malfoy' anymore?' he kicked a loose stone down the hall. I shrugged in a non-committal way.

'I dunno, he likes it more when I call him that.'

'So, I guess you're friends now.'

'Yeah, I guess so.'

'Hey, Lark,' he took my hands suddenly and I jumped in surprise. We'd come to a halt in the middle of the corridor.

'Wh-what?' I managed, an awkward grin on my face.

'We're friends too though, right?' he asked, eyes searching mine for an answer. 'You and me?'

'Of course,' I said quickly, relieved that he wasn't asking something else. 'Of course we are. Oh, which reminds me! Me, Harry, Ron and Hermione are gonna be studying in the Charms classroom tomorrow after detention, do you want to join us?'

'Sure,' he nodded happily. 'That'd be fun.'

I smiled, gently taking my hand away from him.

'You gotta promise me one thing, though,' he said, with a serious yet good-humoured expression.

'What's that?' I asked curiously as we started walking again.

'That you'll never like _Draco _more than you like me.'

I snorted with laughter, 'of course I'd never do that.' It was out of my mouth before I even stopped to think. For a moment my heart stopped pumping, and I faltered a step.

What if I already did?

'You okay?' he asked, stopping for me. I shook my head to clear it and caught up.

'Yup, don't worry. Just thought I'd forgotten a book at Snape's room, but I didn't.'

'Ah, okay. C'mon then, let's get you back to your tower.'

'Thanks.'

* * *

I had lied, when I told him I was studying with Harry, Ron and Hermione. They knew about the plan, yes, and they knew what we were planning to do the next day, but they hadn't wanted to be part of it. I had just used them to help me lure Bouilloire.

I woke early the next morning, already anticipating an end to my relationship with 'Bouilloire'. From this evening onwards I would know his real name, and his feelings towards me would no longer be as they were now. I wasn't sure if he would hate me or not, though I was starting to hope he wouldn't.

Tonight, I would have my questions answered. Some would be unexpectedly so, but I wasn't to know that yet.

Being careful not to wake Hermione or the other girls, I slipped out of bed and down the stairwell to the common room.

There I aimed to waste away the morning until breakfast but upon my entrance I found my two brothers huddled over something I couldn't see.

'Luke? Harry?' I said, walking over. 'What are you two doing?'

They jerked up, leaping away from each other and hiding whatever they'd been looking at behind their backs. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

'It's just... a letter. From Mum and Dad,' Luke said eventually. He exchanged a look with Harry, who nodded. 'It's nothing important, just...'

'Mum sending her regards. You know how she is,' Harry interjected.

'And Dad babbled on for a bit, too,' Luke added.

'So, can I read it?' I asked, stepping towards them.

'No!' they cried together, exchanging another look. I scowled, placing my hands on my hips.

What followed was no doubt caused by the early morning and their secretive attitudes. I made a grab for the letter, while Luke danced away out of my reach. When I tried to get it off him he stuffed it into Harry's hand and Harry made a break for the portal. With a cry of rage I leapt after him, only to realize that Luke had actually kept it, and Harry stood empty-handed with a grin.

Panting slightly, I glared from one to the other. It was just like old times. They had often kept secrets from me then, and I had always been eager to find them out.

'Fine,' I snapped, severely disgruntled. 'I'll get it from you later, though.'

Harry stuck his tongue out at me, and I flounced out of the room.

I had never spent much time with my brothers, save for the Christmas and Summer Holidays, so it was only natural that they had always been closer to each other than to me. Still, when we were together we had been friends. Well, I'd liked them well enough. And I had thought I knew them pretty well, same as my parents, before I found out about the big wizarding secret.

The day passed slowly, as days do when all you can think about is it ending. Still, eventually class let out and I hurried to the charms room.

Draco was already there, a look of fevered excitement upon his fine features. I grinned, closing the door behind me.

'I guess this is it then,' I murmured. He nodded.

'So he's coming?'

'Yeah. He thinks he's coming to a study group with Hermione and the others.' I flushed at the memory of the lie, I still felt a minute touch of guilt. But, the anticipation of the big event all but drowned out any other feeling.

I dumped my satchel on the chair and sat on the desk next to the one Malfoy was leaning against. 'It won't hurt him though, will it?'

I glanced at him questioningly, waiting for an answer. He looked me directly in the eyes and shrugged.

'I don't think so. Which is a shame,' he drawled. 'He might be a little disorientated though.'

A silence descended. Maybe earlier on, that silence might have been awkward, but now I was happy to sit with him without saying a word.

'You have to be prepared, though,' he said after a few minutes.

'For what?'

'If he's... well, if he's a criminal, say. On the run or something. We'll have to hand him over.'

My stomach flipped. It had never occurred to me that there could be a serious reason to Bouilloire hiding himself. I always assumed that he just liked lying.

'Could he be dangerous?' I asked, swallowing hard. 'Could he try and attack us?'

'He won't have control over himself, Lark,' he scoffed, as if I had asked a stupid question. 'If he does confess to murdering someone – don't make that face – _hypothetically_, if he admits to something, then we'll have plenty of time to disarm him and lock the doors while we go get Dumbledore.'

I shivered and nodded. He would be here any moment now. The truth would be told.

'Gee, we've focussed on this for so long, afterwards is going to be so different,' I sighed. 'Next year especially.'

Draco didn't reply so I glanced up at him. To my surprise, he looked like he had just swallowed his tongue. Mouth tightly closed, forming a thin, white line, eyes wide and worried.

'Draco? Are you alright?' Maybe he _had_ swallowed his tongue.

He seemed to get a hold of himself, but whatever had caused his moment of unrest still lingered in his eyes. He cleared his throat.

'Ahem. Yes. About next year.' His eyes danced around the room, avoiding me. 'I think we should continue studying together. Just because you're awful with your potions work. You'll need my help because next year's exams are harder.'

I had to restrain myself from answering too eagerly. 'Yeah, sure thing.' I said after a moment. 'I'll have to help you with your transfiguration work, too. I hear at the next exams you have to transfigure something inanimate into something animate, and you have enough trouble with the other way 'round.'

We lapsed into the familiar silence, waiting for Bouilloire. The potion was sitting on the desk between us, disguised as a flask of tea. I would serve it to the three of us, me and Draco would pretend to drink, and huzzah. Plan complete.

Of course, the production of Veritaserum was illegal, but we had made some earlier in the year in Potions. Though Professor Snape had kept all the vials, he hadn't noticed when Draco swiped some during our detention cleaning out the supply closet. Two vials had sat in Draco's room all year, as if waiting for us to formulate our grand plan.

I sighed happily and leant backwards, swinging my legs. My hand brushed Draco's, and my breath caught in my throat.

Before I could move, he had moved his hand. Long, cool fingers brushed mine, and then he linked his fingers with my own. I sat up abruptly, staring at him.

He had his familiar smirk on, yet it was tinged with a faint look of affection. I stared at our intertwined hands, my heart thudding unevenly in my chest.

'Um, D-Draco.' I murmured. I hadn't realized how close we were.

He lifted his other hand to my face, brushing my hair behind my ear. He cupped my face then, his eyes fixed on mine.

'Draco,' I said again with a slight wobble. 'What are you, what...'

'Hey, shh,' he whispered. 'Lark, I...'

I could feel my whole body trembling. We were oh so close, oh. So close. His knee touched mine, and I could feel his hand on my face as though I had been branded. He was so perfect. Oh, oh so perfect.

Slowly he leant forward. I was too frightened to move. I had no idea what to do.

And then a few things happened at once. Firstly, our lips met in a kiss. And then the door slammed open.

We leapt apart, Draco wiping a hand across his mouth. In the doorway stood Harry, Ron, Hermione, and first and foremost, Bouilloire. They were staring at us with a look of horror and I knew without a doubt that they had seen. My face burned red.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' Bouilloire murmured with a dazed look. 'Is this a bad time?'

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Uwaaahhh!! I am SO sorry that I have been absent for so long, as payment here is finally some love! -heart-

I've been sick, and then I had the school musical, and then I had to catch up on a massive amount of school work. Plus some personal problems, but now I am fully in the mood to write again!

So here is another chapter of yay. And now we finally get the title moment xD

Also; I just wanna take this moment to thank the people who have favourited/reviewed/anything else. When I get the emails telling me so, I just. Waa. I love you 3

Oh, yes, I have drawn a picture of this moment too xD The picture was drawn before I wrote this chapter, but I only finished colouring it today. If you wanna find it, go to and search 'is this a bad time?'. There are a few pictures there, but you should find the one I'm talking about... it's very blue... xD

I have an awful habit of using too many commas. It'll be the death of me. xD

-heart- Thank you!!

Ecmmi


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

**Chapter Thirty Two**

We all sat on chairs in a circle holding china cups. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bouilloire, Draco and I. My hands shook as I poured everyone's tea, and with whispers and meaningful looks urged Hermione, Ron and Harry not to drink it.

The silence stretched on as I took my seat, frantically trying to still my hands. Oh, how had this all gone wrong? The plan was falling to pieces.

Accidentally, my eyes slid to look at Draco, who was looking right at me. My cheeks flushed pink and I quickly glanced away, rapidly searching for something to say.

'We can go, if you want,' Ron said suddenly. 'If we're interrupting.'

'Oh! No, um, you aren't,' I said hastily. 'And we came here to study after all, didn't we?'

'I don't know, did we?' Bouilloire asked coldly. I refused to meet his eyes, knowing the anger they would hold. I could feel him looking at me though. 'Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't even know what room we were meeting in.'

'Oh, yes,' Hermione said in a falsely bright voice. 'We thought we were meeting in the common room, it's lucky that we passed Bouilloire who corrected us.' I caught her meaningful look and gave a fraction of a nod.

'You don't have your books with you,' Bouilloire sneered. 'How did you expect to study without books?'

'We left them in the common room where we thought we were meeting,' Harry said defensively. 'Hey, maybe we should go get our books-'

'Stay,' Draco growled. Frightened, Hermione fell back into the chair she had half-risen from.

More silence. I pretended to sip from my tea hoping to encourage Bouilloire to, though no one else moved.

'You promised,' Bouilloire hissed across the circle at me. 'You _promised_.'

The others looked to me for an explanation but I just stared intently at my tea, watching it ripple as my hands continued to spasm.

'Ron!' I heard Hermione exclaim, and looked up just in time to see Ron finishing off his tea.

'What,' he started, and then a change came over his face. His eyes glazed over and he dropped his teacup. Harry caught it just before it shattered on the ground.

'I think we should take Ron to Madame Pomfrey, he's been feeling ill all day,' Harry said hurriedly, and with Hermione's help they picked Ron up out of his chair and began dragging him out of the room.

'No I haven't, I feel perfectly fine,' Ron said automatically as Harry stuffed Ron's fist into his own mouth to shut him up.

'What was th-' Bouilloire started.

'I'll go help them,' Draco said standing suddenly. I looked at him with pleading eyes as he left the room without glancing back or closing the door. Don't leave me alone with Bouilloire! I begged silently.

Bouilloire was staring at Ron's cup that Harry had left on the floor, glancing from it to his cup as he pieced together what was happening.

'Lark...' Bouilloire said, his voice slightly bewildered. 'Did you..?'

'Bouilloire, I didn't mean-'

I hadn't seen him come back in, but Draco stepped up behind Bouilloire's chair, tipped his head back by pinching his nose, and tipped a cup of tea down his throat.

'Draco!' I cried. 'That stuffs hot!'

Bouilloire made a gagging noise as Draco released him, hands to his throat as if he was choking. He made to get up from the chair but all at once collapsed back into it. His face went slack and his eyes glazed, just as Ron's had.

'Draco...' I started to speak nervously. He ignored me and pulled up a chair right in front of Bouilloire.

'What is your name?' he asked clearly.

I watched anxiously. Bouilloire's hand twitched slightly, and his eyes remained unfocussed.

'My name is Bouilloire Garçon,' he said, his voice monotonous. Draco glared, already frustrated. We knew that wasn't his real name, so why was he saying it was?

'What is the name your parents gave you?' he repeated the question. 'Even when he's drugged he's a tricky little...' he murmured over his shoulder to me.

Bouilloire had already begun to answer, however, continuing in the same expressionless voice. 'I was born Simon George Murray the 3rd, named after my father, Simon George Murray the 2nd and my grandfather; Simon George Murray.'

Draco and I stared at him in shock.

'Murray?' I blurted. 'As in, the Murrays who live in my street?'

'Yes, I live with my parents down the road from you,' he replied.

'But you said they had a daughter,' Draco said to me. 'He's not... is he... a she?'

'I am a male,' Bouilloire – or, Simon now – said in his flat voice, a slight smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, despite the drug.

'Do you have a sister?' I asked tentatively. For a moment his unfocussed eyes managed to meet mine, before drifting away again.

'No. I am an only child.'

'Are you a pureblood?' Draco asked all of a sudden. I rolled my eyes, exasperated – of course he would ask that.

'Yes, the Murrays have been pureblood for many generations now.'

'How do you know Kettle?' I asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from his blood type. I wasn't sure how long this truth stuff would work, so I wanted to get the important questions answered quickly before letting Draco drill him about his blood line.

'He is my escape. My shelter. My home. My best friend.'

I glanced at Draco, who looked equally confused. 'Your what?' he asked.

'I made him. He's my best friend,' Bouilloire repeated, continuing to be cryptic.

'I thought you said it would make him tell the truth,' I complained to Draco. He scowled at me.

'He _is_ telling the truth, we're just not asking the right questions. How is he your _home_?' he snapped, directing the question at Bouilloire.

'Because I live in him,' Bouilloire answered. His eyes focussed on us again, and he looked slightly confused.

'It's wearing off...' Draco murmured. 'I don't understand...'

A light bulb flickered on inside my head and my breath caught. 'Oh! He means like, he feels at home with him. Or, if he made him, like with a spell, he lives _on_ inside him. He's being metaphorical. See?' I said excitedly. Draco looked at me like I belonged in a hospital.

'That's ridiculous, he said he 'lives in him', he can't say metaphors while he's under the influence of Veritaserum, he has to tell the _truth_.'

Bouilloire made a strange sound and blinked hard a few times. His eyes were no longer glazed and unfocussed.

'It looks like it's wearing off, so I bet he can,' I retorted. 'Just how many people have you interrogated anyway, Draco?'

'Enough to know when and when they are not using metaphors,' he snapped. 'Now shut up, I'm going to give him more.'

'I don't think we should,' I said. 'I think we've got everything we're going to get out of him.'

He pretended not to hear me, and instead made a grab at the flask of tea/Veritaserum that sat beside me. I snatched it away before he could.

'I said no!' I cried. His face twisted in a sneer.

'And why would I listen to you? Give me the flask, Fissure,' he drawled, making another grab for it. I twisted it away and behind my back.

'I won't, _Malfoy_,' I replied. For some reason, hearing him use my last name again made me angry. It seemed to have the same effect on him.

'Just hand it over, else I'll...'

'Else you'll what?' I interrupted. 'I've got it, and I'm saying no. No, no, no. No!'

'Stop this!' he cried, continuing to try and regain possession of the flask. I dodged again, bumping into a desk. Realizing I'd backed myself into a corner, I ducked his arms and made towards the door.

His hand snagged a fistful of my robes though and he yanked me back with a jerk. I cried out in surprise, the force of his pull causing me to release the thermos which flew through the air, landing on the floor in front of me. Luckily I had screwed the lid on tight and nothing spilt.

Draco had me pinned with one arm, and he was frantically trying to hold me back as well as make his way towards the fallen flask. I was fighting against him as well as I could.

'Would – you – stop – it!' I cried indignantly. His expression was furious as I dug my nails into his arm.

All of a sudden, the tangled mass of limbs and robes that was the both of us overbalanced, and we fell to the floor with a crash.

'Ouch!' he yelped, as I accidentally – I mean that, it really was an accident - landed and jabbed him in the stomach with my elbow.

Without stopping to see if he was alright, I leapt for the tea, holding it firmly in my hands and trying to get up again. Unfortunately, Draco had recovered and again he yanked at the hem of my robes, again pulling me to the ground. With a frustrated yell I curled into the foetal position, the flask safely cocooned inside my robes and my arms.

'Lark!' Draco barked. 'Give it to me!' He tried in vain to pull my arms away.

'No! No, no, no! Enough, Draco!'

To my surprise he did stop, and after a moment I opened one of my eyes to see him sitting above me, looking at me. He had a wry smirk on his face as usual, though it was strange this time, because I had won.

'Wh-what?' I asked, sitting up carefully and keeping the flask tight in my grip. 'What is it?'

'Nothing,' he said, his tone telling me there was something. He shifted to a new position, moving to sit beside me. I watched him nervously. I had forgotten, amidst all the excitement, about the kiss.

He reached for the flask again, and I tried not to flinch away. Instead of grabbing the thermos though, he let his fingers trail over my own. To my dismay, I felt my face redden in embarrassment.

He saw it too, and leant closer until his nose was touching the side of my face.

'You like me, don't you?' he whispered in my ear. I didn't answer, only stared at his hand as it took mine.

'Of course you do,' he answered himself. 'But it's okay, I like you too.'

At that moment there was a slam and we both jumped. Looking around, we discovered that we were now completely alone. Bouilloire had gone.

* * *

I hovered outside the common room door, terrified of going in. I knew Harry, Ron and Hermione were inside. No doubt Ron had told everyone – including my brothers – and Hermione would be so shocked and disappointed in me. And if all the Gryffindors knew, well, how could I face them when I had been seen kissing a Slytherin? I flushed at the memory, and couldn't help but suppress a euphoric smile.

I _kissed_ Draco Malfoy!

At that moment the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione came barrelling out almost knocking me over.

'Lark! There you are, what are you doing standing out here? Never mind, come inside!' she said excitedly. Grabbing my arm she pulled me into the common room behind her.

'Here she is!' she announced, pushing me forward. To my immense embarrassment I found Harry, Ron and my two brothers sitting in front of the fire. _Oh God_, I thought. _Are they going to lecture me? Have they written to Mum and Dad?_

Hermione, who hadn't let go of my arm, gently guided me over to a comfy chair, depositing me there before going to sit by Ron. I looked at my brothers guiltily only to find that they looked just as ashamed.

'Lark, I think that we,' Harry started.

'Owe you an apology,' Luke finished.

'...Really?' I said dumbly after a moment. 'What on Earth for?'

'If we had known what you were going to do to Bouilloire-'

'Then we would have shown it to you this morning.'

'Can't _one_ of you talk, instead of both of you?' Ron complained. 'I'm getting a headache.'

'My neck is cramping. This is like watching tennis,' Harry Potter commented with a small laugh.

'Shown me what?' I interrupted. What did they mean?

Slowly Luke held up an envelope. I immediately recognized my mother's handwriting and my breath caught in my throat. What could Mum's letter have to do with Bouilloire?

'Do you remember when we told you about the Murray's daughter?' Luke asked. I nodded slowly.

'Well, it appears we didn't hear right,' Harry said sheepishly. I ogled at them.

'The Murray's didn't _have_ a daughter.'

'They had a son.'

There was a stunned silence, and I saw Hermione's excited face, the one that meant she was putting the pieces of a large and difficult puzzle together, all by herself.

'Simon George Murray...' I breathed.

'Yes, the 3rd, how did you know? Oh, Bouilloire told you?'

'Bouilloire... _is_... Simon.'

Hermione squealed. 'Merlin! That proves my theory! Oh, oh Lark, I've figured it out.'

'Let her read the letter first,' Ron said gruffly.

Luke passed our brother the envelope, and he handed it to me. With shaking hands I opened it, unfolding the letter within. My mother's handwriting shone at me, written in her favourite ruby-coloured ink.

_Dear Harry,_

_My advice to you, in relation to your girlfriend, is to wait until you are ready. I know there is a lot of pressure from other children to move quickly, but if you are feeling uncomfortable about kissing her then maybe you should talk to her about it. Surely she would understand that you don't want to rush into anything?_

I stopped reading. 'You have a girlfriend?' I snorted.

Harry flushed red and waved his hand. 'Sh-shut up, not that bit. The part below.'

Giggling, I returned to the letter.

_I have no idea why you three are so interested in the Murrays, but after talking it over with your father we decided that you should know the truth. Especially since you sound worried that your sister might do something stupid._

'A bit late,' I murmured.

_When you were very small we were all close to the Murrays. They had a son Lark's age, (not a daughter, I am not sure where you got that from) Simon George Murray the 3__rd__, named after his father, Simon George Murray the 2__rd__. _

_When Lark was four, and you boys were five and six, she started showing her magic. Most children can't control their magical outbursts at first, and Lark's particular talent was for exploding glass. Whole windows, but as she grew older she (thankfully) only seemed to affect light globes. You boys were already past the magical tantrums, and your father and I made a decision that we would keep the magical world hidden from her, so she could have a chance at a normal life. Looking back, I admit it was a selfish choice on our part, but at the time..._

_The Murrays were highly disapproving, and they argued that she should be allowed to grow up as she was, without a family that was keeping a secret from her. Your father argued that it was our choice, and not any of their business, and thus the rift began to grow._

_It wasn't until a few years later that Simon began to show his own gift of magic. The Murrays had suspected that he was non-magical, but one day while the three of you were playing hide-and-seek in their house, he disappeared._

_Though we searched hard, he was missing well into the night until he began crying. We followed the sound and found him hiding in the wall-space. The thing was, there was no way into that wall except for a little mouse-hole. When his parents asked how he'd gotten in there, he showed us. And before our eyes, he shrunk himself to the size of a mouse. _

_He had always been a strange boy, but once he discovered his powers he became almost impossible. He preferred to shrink himself down to microscopic sizes and hide away by himself rather than talk to people. He seemed to like Lark well enough though, except when she made things explode. If that happened he'd shrink himself in fright and have to wait until he grew back to normal again._

_At first it seemed like a neat trick. Hey, the boy can become invisible. That's an amazing talent to have, don't you think? But then the reality sunk in. Simon couldn't fully control the shrinking, and could be lost very easily. Another wall-cavity situation might arise, he could be stuck somewhere that he couldn't escape from and no one could hear him. Your father and I tried to talk to the Murrays about it, we suggested pre-schooling to help him to control it, but the Murray's refused. They seemed to think that we only wanted him to hide his talent so we could continue to trick Lark. I guess they may have been partly right._

_Arguments ensued that permanently fractured our already damaged friendship. We stopped having each other for tea, and even eventually stopped allowing you children to go over there. Simon never came to our house anyway._

_And one day he disappeared altogether. George, Simon's dad, came to our house to see if he was there, and when he wasn't, the ministry got involved. Even the muggle police. They were desperate to find that boy._

_Unfortunately, the search was called off before he was found. The Murrays didn't seem all that upset, and when they rejected our offer of help we finally cut all ties to them. I doubt that they did find him though, because no one ever saw him again._

After that my mother only spoke more about Harry's girlfriend and asked if he was well so I stopped reading.

'So that's it? He can shrink?' I gaped. 'But that doesn't explain anything. It doesn't explain Kettle, though... though...'

'I've figured out the rest,' Hermione said, as if she couldn't hold it in any longer. 'It's so simple that even _Ron_ could figure it out!'

'Hey,' Ron whined.

As Hermione explained to us, I could almost see her fitting all the pieces into place. Kettle, the Murrays, Bouilloire, me. And then the picture was complete.

'All I had to do was ask a few of the students in Bouilloire's charms class. Apparently he excels to the point that he's more than a match for Flitwick himself. So, picture this. Bouilloire, who used to be Simon, lives in his home with his parents. He has full control over his size, and can also charm anything he wants. And, being lonely, he charms a kettle to talk to him.'

'Hypothetically, you mean. He might not have stayed with his family,' Ron reminded her. Hermione ignored him and continued talking.

'Seven or so years later, Lark comes along. She meets the charmed kettle and eventually kidnaps him without realizing that the Murray's son is _inside_ him. Then, for whatever reason – maybe because he remembers their childhood friendship – Bouilloire takes on his obscure new identity, no doubt blackmails his parents or forges their signatures, and becomes a student at Hogwarts. He can't tell Lark, because he's not supposed to exist, and it's more than a little weird to admit to someone you care about that you're a recluse who lives in a talking kettle. So he shrinks and follows us around, hearing everything we say. Basically, he's the ultimate stalker.'

'So, he could be in this room, right now?' Luke asked, glancing around. Hermione nodded.

Everyone looked around them nervously. Ron screwed his face up.

'He's like a big, ugly spider,' he muttered.

'What should we do then?' I asked. 'Either way, I think he knows that we know about him. Will he stay at the school, or go home?'

'I don't know,' Hermione admitted. 'But... we should probably talk to him.'

'Ah, bags not me,' Harry said from beside Ron, who seconded the notion.

'We don't know him,' Harry and Luke said together.

'I'll do it,' Hermione volunteered.

'I think Lark should do it,' Luke said. 'She was the closest to him.'

'He's less likely to kill her,' my brother Harry agreed.

'Not that he might kill anyone,' Luke said hastily. I grimaced, but nodded reluctantly.

We sat in silence for a moment longer, all contemplating what would happen. I was remembering the night that Bouilloire returned, when Malfoy had shielded himself with me. Bouilloire had said he would spell his way through me, and now I was wondering if he'd been telling the truth.

'There's still one thing I don't understand,' Hermione interrupted our thoughts. 'If he was your childhood friend Lark, and Harry and Luke too, then why didn't any of you remember that the Murray's had a kid? You boys must have been about ten when he disappeared.'

I frowned, equally confused. 'I'm not sure. I don't remember having a friend in my street, well, ever.'

'Neither do we,' my brothers agreed. 'We just had friends at school.'

'All I knew about the Murray's was that they lived in my street and Mr. Murray worked in the supermarket.'

'That's... strange,' Hermione conceded.

'So... he _wasn't_ being metaphorical, then, when he said Kettle was his home,' I said to myself. 'He _was_ telling the truth...'

'What?' Harry asked.

'I should go tell Draco, then,' I said standing up. Immediately, five pairs of hands grabbed me and forced me back into my chair.

'First, you've got some explaining to do,' my brother Harry said with a devilish grin.

'Yeah, _then_ you can run off to your precious 'Draco',' Luke laughed.

'Oh, dear,' I squeaked. Ron snorted and rolled his eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note**

As usual, a quick apology for taking so long. This time I was just being fanatical about checking it xD I had two people read it through to tell me if it made sense plot-wise, re-read it myself several times (once even out loud) and changed parts around so much that it was hard to remember what I'd kept.

But, um, here it is. Yay. Now everything is known. Um, yeah. xD I hope it isn't too clichéd or anything, and there's still some things to be explained. Hopefully you like it, though...

Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long too :x

Thank you for reading! heart

**- Ecm **


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

**Chapter Thirty Three**

In the end, I didn't get time to go see Draco. My brothers, Harry, Ron and Hermione teased me into submission once I'd confessed that I maybe did like Draco. Ron and Harry P. were flat-out disapproving, and my brothers also seemed slightly annoyed at the 'development', but thankfully Hermione stood up for me. I think she was more worried that I would get angry at them if they continued to insult Draco.

I went to bed feeling sort of sick to the stomach, nervous and guilty. I knew that what we had done to Bouilloire was morally wrong _and_ illegal. Only now was I worrying about getting in trouble though. I wondered if Bouilloire would turn us in, and if he did if Draco would desert me and deny everything.

My heart fluttered infuriatingly whenever I thought of him. _Draco_. Memories flashed past my eyes and I felt my face grow red as I lay in my bed.

_You like me, don't you? Of course you do._

_But it's okay, I like you too._

My entire face was sore from smiling by the time I stumbled down the stairs to breakfast. I knew it was wrong, but Bouilloire's interrogation was not enough to dampen my spirits. I did, however, feel another tinge of guilt when I noticed he wasn't present in the hall for breakfast. Draco was, though, seated in between Crabbe and Goyle. He looked so small between them, and my smile broadened.

'Someone's happy,' Ron muttered darkly. I stuck my tongue out at him, nibbling at a piece of toast.

The day flew by in a haze as I desperately tried to find time to speak to Draco. I wanted to be the one to tell him everything, and I wanted his advice. Besides... my cheeks flushed. What did that kiss mean? Were we..?

'Um, Lark?'

I was sitting in the common room completing the Charms revision Hermione had set for me. Looking up, I found a second year boy staring at me with wide eyes.

'Malfoy says you're to meet him in the library,' he said. I glanced over to where Hermione was busy helping Ron and then grinned at the boy.

'Thank you,' I said quietly. He ran off to join his friends, and I heard him whispering; 'that's the girl who's dating the Slytherin!'

As silently as possible I gathered my books and slipped out of the common room, leaving a note for Hermione saying I was going to return and borrow some books from the library.

I was in such a rush to get there that I wasn't really looking around as I made my way. I'll never know if he was there to wait for me, or if I just happened to pass him. But my mind was on other things and people, so I almost walked on past.

'Lark.'

I froze in place, my hearth thudding loudly in the suddenly silent and empty corridor. Then, as if I was no longer in control, I turned slowly to face Bouilloire.

Or was he Simon now?

He was leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his uniform, staring at the floor. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying (and I could imagine he had been; the guilt welled up inside my heart) and his expression was downright doleful.

'Hello,' I said softly.

We stood in that echoing silence for a moment, neither of us saying anything. I desperately searched for a word to say that would make everything better, but there was nothing. I had hurt him too much, I realized, to be able to say "I'm sorry" and fix everything.

'I'm going home,' he said suddenly.

'When?' I blurted, twisting the edge of my sleeve.

'Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next day. My parents are coming to get me.'

'You spoke to them?' He nodded in reply and I turned away, unable to continue looking at him.

'I guess this is it,' he said bluntly. 'Goodbye, Lark.'

He turned to walk down the corridor and my heart lurched. 'Wait, Bouilloire,' I said hastily, my voice shaking. 'I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't mean for it to get out of hand.'

Abruptly, he spun to face me, and I saw the fury burning in his eyes. I cowered slightly; he was terrifying.

'Then why did it, Lark?' he snarled, hands clenched into fists. 'You and your _boyfriend_ and your damn Gryffindor friends tricked me! You lured me somewhere with your damn pretty face, and then you gave me a drug to make me tell the truth.'

'I know!' I interrupted, feeling myself getting angry despite the guilt. 'But you're the one who wouldn't be honest with me! I've known you for almost an entire year now, Bouilloire, only to find out that your real name is Simon and you've lived in my street for my entire life!'

'If I go to Dumbledore, you and your precious Malfoy could be expelled,' he hissed through his teeth, tears welling up in his eyes.

To my surprise, I began to cry too. Irritated, I wiped the tears away, my face flushed with indignation. 'I don't even recall knowing you, but apparently we were friends when we were younger. My brothers don't remember you either so I want to know; do you remember us?'

'How could I forget,' he said icily.

'Well _I_ did,' I spoke through my teeth, almost ready to hit him.

We stood for a moment, both glaring at the other with teary eyes. I was breathing unevenly and my hands were shaking with a mixture of rage and upset.

Then, strangely, I began to laugh. And the tears came, unstoppable this time, so I was laughing and crying all at once. I saw Bouilloire smile too, albeit sadly, and wipe his eyes.

'I'm sorry,' I whispered, stepping towards him. 'Really I am. I didn't mean it to be... like this.' Then, to make my point clear, I wrapped my arms around him in a hug. 'I'd still like to be friends.'

For a moment it seemed like he would return the gesture, but then he removed my arms from him and stepped away.

'I have to think about it, Lark,' he said softly. 'There are lot of things I'll have to think about.'

I stared at him, crestfallen and embarrassed. I thought everything was okay, or at least was on the way to being it. _Stupid_, I told myself. _Of course it isn't. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

'Goodbye,' he said again, before walking away, leaving me alone in the corridor.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

* * *

I entered the library feeling weak and stupid. I had washed my face to rid it of the traces of tears but my mournful expression remained.

Finding Draco, I sat down beside him with a soft thud.

'What took you so long?' he demanded, annoyed, but he stopped when he saw my face.

'Lark?' he asked, alarmed. 'What is the matter with you?'

So I told him about the letter, about my childhood with Bouilloire, and finally about the conversation I had just had. He was silent for the whole of it, staring at the table and musing.

'He pushed you away?' he asked, bewildered, as I finished. 'But I thought he _liked_ you.'

I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. I wanted comfort and reassurance, but everyone I knew disliked Bouilloire too much. I could picture Ron, already, telling me to 'get over him'. I didn't want to "get over" him, I wanted forgiveness. From Bouilloire. I sighed and stood, ready to leave.

'I should get going,' I murmured. Draco glanced around the library for a second, eyeing all the studying students. Then he stood alongside me.

'I'll walk with you,' he drawled. 'I still want to talk with you.'

Surprised, I simply nodded and waiting for him to collect his various books. Then we left the library together.

'Are you nervous about the exams?' he asked as we walked.

'Yeah, a little,' I muttered.

'Your Mudblood friend will get full marks, no doubt,' he sneered resentfully. I merely shrugged in reply.

Draco stopped walking, and I did too with a puzzled, backwards glance at him. He was glaring at me, clutching at his satchel.

'What's the matter with you?' he sneered angrily. 'Don't tell me you're moping about that phoney boy! I thought you hated him?'

'I didn't hate him,' I answered, a slight sulky note in my voice. 'I just got caught up... with you.'

'Well you _should_ hate him!' Malfoy retorted angrily. 'He lied to you and tricked you and...' he trailed off, seeing my face, and his expression softened considerably.

I was crying again, big fat tears that dripped down my face. Hastily, I spun away from him, covering my face and beginning to run.

He was right! But it didn't excuse my actions. And that Bouilloire had pushed me away hurt the most, even though I knew that I deserved it. I wished desperately, and not for the first time, that I had never come to his stupid school, had never found that stupid kettle.

It was then that Draco caught my hand, pulling me back. He wrapped me in a strangely awkward hug, as if he was unsure how it was supposed to go.

'Don't, don't cry,' he murmured anxiously. 'I didn't mean to upset you.'

Hopelessly unable to speak, from shock mainly, I just shook my head, burying my face in his chest. I felt unbelievably safe, even as Draco tried not to touch me at the same time as he seemed to want to hold me.

I stepped away, wiping my eyes, my lips pressed into a small wobbly smile. Draco looked at me uncertainly, looking both terrified and worried. It only made my smile broaden, though. Anxiety was such an unusual expression for his face to have; it was so different to his usual unbroken confidence.

Then, very gently, with the air of a new experience, he took my hand. Still in a state of shock, I allowed him to pull me along.

'I'm sure it'll work out, Lark,' he said, pausing for a moment. 'He won't... he won't give up on you that easily.' I followed, still surprised. Draco cleared his throat, and I noticed a pink flush on his cheeks. He was embarrassed.

He led me into a classroom, closing the door behind us. Then he sat me down on the floor, and I leant my back against the wall. Looking around, I recognized it as the very same room Draco and I had been locked and abandoned in by Peeves.

Draco stood by the wall beside me, and I looked up in time to see him looking down at me, cheeks flushed, before looking away again.

He was so flustered that I couldn't help but smile. It was such a surprising change in character for him, though he still managed to look like a spoiled child amongst his awkward kindness.

'Are you feeling better?' he asked, seeing my smile. He slid down the wall to sit beside me, watching me with an expression that showed mild concern. It made my heart flutter, and a warm feeling spread from my chest through my body.

'Yes,' I answered. 'Thank you.'

'I didn't do anything,' he said, confused as to why I would thank him.

We sat in silence, and I couldn't help but think of our kiss, and his hand in mine. I wanted to hold his hand again, and yet I didn't feel like I should. Each time something had happened between us, he had been the one to initiate it. And as much as I wanted to, I froze at the very thought of putting myself out there. What if he rejected me? I felt as if I was standing on ice.

_No_.

I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palm. After exams the school year would end and we would go our separate ways. I had to know what this was before we left, had to solidify something. If I didn't, maybe these feelings would go away. I would miss my chance.

'Are you alright?' Draco asked, staring at me worriedly. 'You aren't going to cry again, are you?'

Instead of answering him, I just lay my head – hesitantly – on his shoulder. Then I nodded, glancing up at him.

Draco seemed mildly surprised, but then, slowly, his old self-assured smirk appeared on his face. He slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer, leaning his head on mine.

'You don't need Bouilloire anyway,' he said haughtily. 'You've got me now, right?'

'Draco, are we... are you my...' I flushed. 'Are we... dating?'

He lifted his head abruptly, staring at me in alarm. For a second I felt mortification well up in me and I considered fleeing from the room, but then his face softened thoughtfully. He didn't release his old on me, either.

'I guess so,' he mused. 'If you like.'

I beamed, relaxing. The world seemed wonderful all over again. It was simply a matter of perspective.

* * *

'You want to _stay_ with her?' Bouilloire blurted. 'But you know what she did!'

'Well, yeah,' Kettle admitted. 'But I like her. We're friends.'

Bouilloire, the same size as a thumb, was slumped inside the kettle, a thunderous expression on his face. As usual, his presence made Kettle uncomfortable.

'Well, look what she does to her "friends",' Bouilloire snorted. 'I have been betrayed, and violated, and, and, in front of that _Malfoy_.' His wordless cry of rage echoed around the kettle. 'It's so _humiliating_!'

'I think you were both to blame,' Kettle declared.

'What!' Bouilloire exploded. 'What did I do to deserve that kind of treatment? I was a gentleman towards her, and until she fell in with that _Malfoy_ things were fine.' He paused. 'No, she didn't do anything, really. He must have bewitched her. The Lark _I_ know wouldn't be that cruel.'

Kettle sighed loudly and the sound hurt tiny Bouilloire's ears. 'You're still as blind as you always were,' he grumped crossly at the boy. 'How did a kettle you spelled get to be so much smarter than you?'

'What is it then?' Bouilloire challenged. 'What have I supposedly done, that I am too stupid to notice? Give me one good reason!'

'Firstly; YOU betrayed HER before she betrayed you, _Simon_,' Kettle said angrily. 'Secondly; you continued to break promises and feed her unbelievable lies that she saw through instantly. Thus a feeling of mistrust was built up. _Thirdly_; you _spied_ on her. Even if she didn't know it then, the fact you were doing it is just despicable. And now that she knows about it, you're lucky that she asked for your forgiveness, rather than you having to beg for hers.'

Bouilloire was stuck for words. He hadn't quite thought of it like that. 'But I did all the research,' he protested weakly. 'I knew how to make people like me, and it worked, didn't it?'

'I don't think it works like that,' Kettle said, gently now. 'You have to earn someone's respect and trust.'

Bouilloire lay back against the cool surface of the kettle's inner wall, thinking. Minutes went by before he spoke again.

'Kettle, Lark said something strange in the corridor just before. She asked if I remembered being friends with her as a child. She said she doesn't remember it. Why is that?'

'Her parents,' Kettle said with a yawn, 'didn't want her to know about wizards, remember? And you were one of them. You'd been magical around her for a long time, and when the split came between the two families, and you disappeared, they decided it might be best just to erase you altogether.'

'They had no right!' Bouilloire cried angrily. 'You can't just erase someone!'

'It's not too late to forgive her,' Kettle said after a moment. 'Then we could all stay here, and finish the year. And even come back next year.'

Bouilloire didn't move, and continued to stare upwards unseeingly. Tears collected on his lashes and he blinked them away. Kettle expected him to refuse again, but it seemed that the pot's words had had an effect on the boy.

'Not yet,' he murmured. 'Not yet.

* * *

**Author's note:**

Noes :x I'm so awfully sorry that it took me so long. But I was participating in NaNoWriMo, and had to write 50, 000 words in one month :x Plus I had exams and was sick and etc etc *excuses excuses*

xD

Anyway, I thiiiiiiink that there is only one more chapter and an epilogue left ;)

D: Sorry that this is badly written, but I'm awfully tired at the moment. I hope you enjoy it!

(Oh... and I'm on school holidays now... so MAYBE the next chapter will be faster... but I don't know :x )


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

**CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR**

The exams flashed by. I hardly had time to think about anything else, especially not Bouilloire. It seemed he really had gone home, and he had even left Kettle behind. When I asked him about it, Kettle said that Bouilloire hadn't even offered to take him home, had just said goodbye and left. It seemed strange to me, but I supposed that Bouilloire just didn't need Kettle anymore. This lifted my spirits... perhaps it meant he was finally ready to step into the world, to stop hiding?

It seemed the school year was winding down. There was only a week left, and everyone was chatting excitedly about what they would be doing over the holidays. I was looking forward to going home and to the warm weather, but...

We were in the Great Hall for dinner, and very slowly my brown eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table, meeting a pair of grey ones.

Draco was my problem. Would I be seeing him over the holidays, or would I have to wait until the next school year? I bit my lip, glancing away. I wasn't even sure how wizards 'dated'. Was it any different to muggles? I mean, for one thing, how were we supposed to spend hours on the phone if wizards didn't have phones? Was it acceptable for me to constantly send him letters with Pinch?

I didn't want Draco to think I didn't care, but I didn't know how to tell him I did.

'...Lark? Hello?'

I blinked, startled out of my thoughts. Hermione was looking at me anxiously. 'Sorry, yes?' I said, smiling. She rolled her eyes.

'Dinner's over. Are you coming?'

I nodded and stood to follow them, but just then a voice called my name. My heart skipped a beat for a second and the four of us halted.

'Lark,' Draco said, clearing his throat. Was it just my imagination, or did he look embarrassed? 'I have to return some library books for Professor Snape, and he said for you to help.'

I glanced up at the teacher's table at Snape, and found him glaring at me with a curled lip. I doubted very much that he had specifically suggested me to help.

'Sure,' I said. 'Oh, I'll meet you guys... later?' I had turned to say goodbye to Harry, Ron and Hermione, but instead discovered that they had completely disappeared. They were across the other side of the room, and Harry waved at me briefly with a sly expression. I scowled, flushing slightly.

Following Draco down into the dungeons, I found myself examining his profile. From his pointed noise to his fair hair and skin. It was hard to think that I'd only known him for a year. It seemed like a lot longer.

He glanced back at me, and I quickly looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring. He smirked however, which irritated me.

'What are your plans for the holidays?' he drawled, slowing down to walk beside me.

'Ron invited me to stay at his place with the others,' I said. Draco's face pinched in annoyance, but I ignored it. 'And I think Harry and Luke are having friends to stay.'

'Oh,' was all he said.

We had arrived at Snape's office. Outside on the floor was a neat stack of assorted, potions-related books. Draco split the pile evenly and heaved his half into his arms. I copied with my own stack, grunting with effort. Why did wizarding books have to be so weighty? I scowled at Draco's retreating back. Any normal boy would have given the girl a slightly smaller load.

We walked in silence, each occupied with our private thoughts. I was thinking about the holidays still, wondering how I was going to cope with two months without Draco. He had been something constant in my life since becoming a witch (or at least becoming aware of it) and being separated felt... painful.

And apart from seeing Harry, Ron and Hermione at the end of the holidays all I would be doing was slumming around home with Harry, Luke and their friends.

I stopped walking, shifting the books to a more comfortable position. A thought had occurred to me. If Harry and Luke could have friends to stay, couldn't I?

'What's the matter?' Draco asked, stopping and glancing at me shrewdly. I grinned, catching up to him.

'What are you doing with your break?'

He shrugged. 'Might have a few balls to attend. I'll probably see Crabbe and Goyle, and entertain my father's important guests.'

'Do you think you'd like to come and stay at my place?' I asked, unable to keep the note of eagerness out of my voice.

'What?' he gaped, stopping.

Looking at his shocked expression, I suddenly felt very stupid. I had been so excited about the idea I hadn't even stopped to think of the implications. I flushed profusely – the very idea of a boy staying in my house was horrifying. But... I hadn't really thought of Draco Malfoy _as_ a boy. He was just... Draco.

'Um, that is,' I stammered, laughing nervously, words tumbling out of my mouth. 'A joke. As if uh, as if I'd say something like that. Ha, ha...'

'Sure,' Draco interrupted. 'Alright.'

I stared at him, completely bewildered. It occurred to me that maybe a girl had never asked him such a thing before. I turned red suddenly, wondering if Draco had ever had a girlfriend prior to me.

'R-really? We have a spare room, I'm sure Mum and Dad'll say it's alright. Luke and Harry'll probably tease, though...' I trailed off, realizing I was starting to babble again.

We arrived at the library and deposited the books. Madame Pince glowered at us as I wished her happy holidays. Draco snorted with laughter at my hurt reaction to her.

I scowled, and out of habit turned to storm away. He grabbed my hand, however, and I immediately felt the anger ebb away.

'Want to go for a walk?' he asked. I nodded, not meeting his eyes.

Apart from the Library, there was nowhere else in the castle that you could have privacy together on neutral ground. Hanging around in corridors or classrooms seemed sordid and weird. Luckily we were already heading into warmer weather, and outside the afternoon sun was shining happily upon the lake.

A slight breeze ruffled the water's still surface, bringing a trace of the winter that had only recently left. I didn't notice it though; I was far too preoccupied with the hand that held mine.

Ignoring stares from other students who were out enjoying the nice weather, we began to make our way around the lake in silence. It was a happy silence, though.

I thought about my year. It seemed as long as a lifetime, but really it was only a fraction of my life. Discovering the Wizarding world, meeting my new friends, meeting Draco. Such a tiny, tiny part of everything.

_You like me, don't you? ... I like you too._

I grinned to myself, ducking my face. The kiss and those words were like magic to me. Such dear thoughts that I believed I would hold in my heart forever. Along with Draco's face. At that moment, though he was turned away from me, I could see a slight flush on his cheeks. The fact that it seemed I was able to crack his cool facade, to bring out an awkwardness that he hid within him made my heart flutter, causing my own face to redden.

_Draco, are we ... dating?_

_I guess so, if you like._

It was so weird, how happy or sad words could make you. My fight with Bouilloire, only moments before that conversation, had so easily upset me. And yet, Draco's words had healed it in a second.

Though his hands were usually cool, the one I now held was warm. I realized it was probably my body heat that had done that, and my face burned hotter than before. I shook my head, however, and clenched my teeth resolutely. So far, Draco was the only one who had let his feelings be known. My acceptance of his gave away mine, but I was yet to give voice to them.

_My feelings..._

'Draco?' I asked quietly, halting. He stopped, looking back at me.

'What?'

I stared for a moment, transfixed by his sarcastic expression. Underneath I could see the hint of embarrassment that he hid below. I wished I could mask my feelings that well, so that people had to peer closely to see what I really felt.

'I... I like you. Too, I mean,' I said, making sure my words were steady and clear. _Be brave_.

For the first time in the entire year that I had known him; Draco's mouth bent into what could have been called a smile. It was very tiny and still very snide, but it was unmistakably there.

'I know,' was all he said. Then we began walking again, together.

*

***

*

'I can't believe it's been a year already!' I sighed, leaning back in the carriage. Harry and Ron sat opposite me, watching Hogwarts retreat into the distance.

'Well, at least we'll all be back next year,' Hermione said from beside me. I smiled happily. _Next year..._

'So you'll all come in the last week of the holidays?' Ron asked, peeking at Hermione. The three of us nodded readily.

'What are you going to do all the other weeks, Harry?' Hermione asked him. He groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

'I suppose I'll spend it walking and hiding from Dudley,' he sighed. Dudley, I knew, was his cousin's name. He didn't sound like too nice of a boy, either. For once I was glad my cousins lived far away.

'How about you, Hermione?' Ron asked. She shrugged, stifling a yawn.

'First I'll get all of my holiday homework finished. Look, you,' she directed her words at Ron who had begun moaning, 'the sooner you get it done the sooner you don't have to worry about it!'

'I don't want to worry about it _ever_,' he muttered. I hid a grin, watching the turrets of the castle disappear behind trees.

'What _else_ do you have to do, Ron? Surely you aren't so busy that you can't make time for a couple of hours of homework.' Hermione's tone was scathing.

'Have you _seen_ how much homework we have Hermione? I'll have to spend ever second on it if I want to finish any of it. And I have _plenty_ to do, thank you very much.'

'Oh, what? Playing Quidditch with your brothers?'

'_And_ gnoming. They keep coming back, you know.'

'What about _you_, Lark?' Harry said suddenly, interrupting their argument. 'Will you be seeing a certain someone?'

Ron's attention had been nabbed, and he was smirking at me in a knowing way. I flushed, turning my face away hotly.

'M-maybe,' I replied. 'I just might.'

'Really?!' Hermione gushed. 'Are you going to visit him?'

'...He's coming to stay with me,' I admitted. 'Just for a week, on my birthday.'

'I don't know _why _you'd want to spend time with...' Ron started, but he gave a yelp of pain before he could finish. Hermione smiled brightly, and Ron rubbed the ankle that she had kicked, muttering things about 'women'.

'We'll all have to write to each other, you know,' Hermione said seriously. 'Keeping everyone updated on...things that happen.' I couldn't help but notice that her eyes flitted to Ron. 'Will you be seeing Luna, Harry?'

Harry started, and I had to mask my surprise. I'd almost forgotten about Harry and that strange... girl, though they still seemed to be a popularly talked about subject at Hogwarts.

'Um, I don't know,' he confessed. 'I doubt the Dursley's would let me out twice in the same holidays. Not if they thought I'd enjoy it, and especially not to see a girl. But, on the other hand, they might jump at the chance to get rid of me twice.'

'You could go to her place in the second last week of the school holidays,' Hermione suggested. 'And then she could come to Ron's, too!'

'Hey, don't invite people to my house!' Ron cried. Then he jabbed a finger in my direction. 'And don't even _think_ about bringing Malfoy!'

'I wouldn't _want_ to!' I retorted hotly.

'We're here,' Harry said, once again the voice of reason. We all glanced up as the horseless carriage slowed to a stop. We could see the train already waiting, a steady stream of students flowing into its doors. Hagrid's large form was easily visible amongst them, as was a certain blonde-haired boy.

'...I'm not simple you know, Hermione,' Ron was saying as we disembarked. I smiled, feeling the happiness wanting to burst from my chest.

_Next year._

_

* * *

  
_

**Author's Note:**

Gee, I can't believe I'm actually finishing this story :|

I can't believe I'm finishing anything!

Anyway, yes guys, this is the final chapter. But never fear! There is still an **Epilogue** to come!!

...then it will be over.

This is my Christmas present to all of you, to say thank you for supporting me! Your reviews and things have made me smile, and are most likely what caused be to actually finish this. Usually I lose interest pretty quickly...

Oh, and if you don't celebrate Christmas, then this is simply a THANK YOU present. C:

Still! After almost a year of writing this thing, it's over. And I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thank you, again!

Ecm.


	35. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

'If you don't hurry up Lark, we're going to miss the train,' Luke snapped, grabbing my trolley to speed me up. 'I wish there was a spell to cure your slowness.'

Face flushed I closed my mouth in a thin, tight line to stop myself from abusing my brother with insults. Not only had he given me the trolley with the broken, squeaky wheel, but then he'd demanded that I carry some of his luggage bags. Thus I had the heaviest, most unwieldy trolley and he still acted as if it was _my_ fault I was going so slowly.

'You better go first, Lark,' he said as we came to the wall between platforms 9 and 10. I noticed a touch of self importance in his voice. Since my other brother, Harry, had finished school last year, Mum had instructed Luke to look after me and it seemed the responsibility had swelled his head.

I stuck my tongue out at him with a scowl and turned towards the barrier between the two platforms. Last year, standing here, I'd had no idea what was going on. Ron's younger sister, Ginny, had attempted to distract me – thinking I was a muggle - while their family went through the barrier. In the end I had accidentally stepped into the path of Ron's trolley and had been propelled through the wall with him. And thus I began my wizarding journey and also my friendship with Ron.

'Just run straight at it, Lark,' I heard Luke say. So I closed my eyes, and ran.

I knew I had passed through as soon as I heard students excitedly discussing a new broomstick brand. Opening my eyes I drank in the sight of the busy platform with eagerness akin to someone who has been lost in a desert with no water for many months.

'You'll be alright now, wont you?' Luke said appearing beside me and waving to one of his friends. 'I'll see you at Hogwarts, then.'

Pushing my trolley towards the train, Ron's brothers Fred and George appeared, each placing a hand on my trolley and the other on my shoulder. 'Ron and the others are already aboard, let us help you with your bags,' they said simultaneously with twin grins, whisking my things away before I could protest. I stared blankly for a moment, my mind processing.

'Don't you _dare _put anything nasty in them!' I cried eventually, my mind picturing of all the awful tricks they could play on me. They gave me identically mischievous grins that only served in making me more nervous.

Instead of chasing them I quickly climbed onto the train, walking down the corridor and peering in all the carriage compartments. All around me friends were being reunited and loud, excited chatter filled the entire train with a jovial atmosphere. I breathed it in, feeling the almost maniacal happiness infect me.

'Lark!' a voice cried and there was sudden a flurry of limbs and capes and then two arms were around me, hugging me tightly.

'Whoa, Hermione,' I grinned, hugging her back. 'It's only been a couple of days!' I had left Ron's early at my mother's request; she had wanted me to go in with Luke.

'I know but, it's always so exciting to be on the train,' she gushed releasing me. 'Oh, but come on, we've got a compartment further down.'

I followed her through the train, dodging quaffles and overenthusiastic students. I could see Ron up ahead, waving from a compartment door.

I collapsed into the chair with a relieved sigh, greeting Ron and Harry. Luna was beside Harry and their hands were entwined while Hermione had taken her place beside Ron on the other side.

I pursed my lips, wondering where Draco was. And then, almost as if my thoughts had conjured him up...

'I don't know how a Pureblood could sink so low,' a snide, mocking voice said. My eyes shot up to find Draco standing in the doorway, leering at Ron and Hermione.

'Neither did I Malfoy. But I've learned to accept you for who you are,' Hermione retorted – shocking us all – her eyes blazing.

Draco might have been about to reply with another insult, but he never got the chance. Before he could say a word I had leapt out of my chair and thrown myself at him, forgetting in my haste that he was completely unprepared.

'Oomf,' he gasped landing on the floor. I wrapped my arms around him anyway, burying my head in his chest. 'Lark,' I heard him hiss, 'you're hurting me!'

'Sorry,' I said with a grin, sitting up and clambering off him. His face was flushed scarlet and he scowled menacingly at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Luna, as if daring them to comment. They had all respectfully turned their faces away, however, and were staring out the window.

'How're you?' I asked brightly. He took my hand and gave me one of his almost-but-not-quite smiles.

'I missed you,' he murmured at a whisper. It took me a moment to figure out what he had said. Now it was my turn to turn red.

'Do you want to come in?' I inquired gesturing to the compartment. Ron, still facing away, bristled visibly and Draco hesitated in responding.

'I better not,' he drawled. 'I might... catch something.'

'Draco,' I growled warningly. He looked lost as to what to do. The very idea of being polite to the "Mudbloods" and "Half-bloods" I called my friends obviously sickened him to the stomach.

'I'll see you later on, though,' he said giving my hand one last squeeze.

I was about to turn away when he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me towards him in a quick kiss. 'Good to see you again, again,' he teased seeing my horrified expression. Then he was off, sweeping his way down the corridor, scowling at all the students who were peeking from their compartments.

Returning to my seat I noticed the other's quickly brought up topics of conversation, ranging from the weather to school work to different types of fertilizers. Except for Luna, who said something like 'I don't think that Malfoy likes you, Hermione'.

'It's good to be back,' I sighed sinking into my chair. 'And looking back at my first year, what with talking kettles...'

'And boys with split personalities...' Ron added.  
'Don't forget greasy-haired gits either... I meant Snape!' Harry said, protesting when I kicked him in the shin.

'Our first exams...' Hermione said trying to keep the conversation civil.

'When the Wrackspurts took all my socks...' Luna murmured glassy-eyed.

'Magic was probably the best discovery,' I decided. 'Since that's what brought me to everything else.'

'Including us,' Ron said firmly.

'Um, Lark?' said a voice from the compartment door. The five of us glanced up in slight surprise.

For a moment I almost didn't recognize him. The sun had tinted his black hair to a dark shade of brown and his skin had lost its unhealthy pallor. He seemed taller, more confident, stronger. It was only his eyes, still that curious mix of blue and grey, which allowed me to recognize him.

'...Bouilloire?' I murmured, disbelief written all over my face.

'Simon, now,' he said with a little smile.

'Bloody hell,' I heard Ron mutter. 'I didn't think he'd come back.'

'Lark, do you think I could talk to you for a moment? In the corridor?'

'Ah, right, yes, of course,' I stood up quickly and went to follow him out. Before I did though, I doubled back and grabbed my back pack.

'Where have you been?' I gasped before he could say anything. 'I went over to your house over the break to see if you would see me, but the entire place was locked up. Even your parents had disappeared, and to be honest I thought you'd all up and gone forever.'

He cleared his throat, glancing away embarrassed. 'When I got home my parents thought it would be best if we took a small holiday. To help me to... well... rehabilitate myself. I was pretty mad, the last time we spoke, but...' he took a deep breath, checking that I was listening. 'I now understand that I was in the wrong. I suppose I didn't quite know how to live with other people. I spent my entire life inside my own house, for Merlin's sake. The only people I spoke to were Kettle and my parents. And to them I was pretty much the centre of the world.

'When, however, you snatched Kettle and I from our house... things began to change. I watched what was happening around me, and found that my life was severely lacking. I longed to have the same adventures you and your friends had, and I desperately wanted to meet you in person. So I set out to overcome my fear. And I suppose that's when things started to go wrong.'

He glanced at me, as if to see my reaction. Automatically I smiled. I had forgiven him a long time ago, and had even forgiven myself for what I'd done to him. All that had been left was for him to forgive me, and it seemed that over the summer that's exactly what he had done.

'But you... you admit you were wrong to trick me like that, don't you?' he said suddenly. 'To lie and use that... _Malfoy..._ to make me tell the truth?'

His expression was petulant and exactly like the old Bouilloire. He also reminded me of Draco, just the tiniest bit.

'Yeah,' I said softly. 'I admit that.' I dug my hands into my backpack, fingers closing around a familiar object, and before Bouilloire could respond I shoved it hard onto his chest.

'But you admit that that _thing's_ existence is all YOUR fault, right?' I accused as he stood blinking in confusion, holding a golden kettle. 'He doesn't shut up! All night, rambling on and on, always about some uninteresting fact.' I shrugged my shoulders and rolled my eyes. 'I think that if you want me to forgive you, you'll just have to take him off my hands.'

He looked baffled for a moment longer, but then a smile spread across his face. 'Well, I suppose we'll call it quits, then. I'll take him off your hands if it means you'll sleep better.'

'Of course,' I said haughtily. 'Nasty little metallic thing anyway.'

'I wish you wouldn't talk about me like I wasn't here,' Kettle grumbled quietly. Bouilloire and I laughed, smiling at each other.

'Anyway,' he said clearing his throat again, 'I think I'll take you up on your offer.'

'What offer was that?' I asked, raising my eyebrows.

'Friends?' he said sheepishly.

I hugged him by way of answer, Kettle squashed firmly in between us. I was glad he had come back. I was glad he was happier.

The soft hiss of a compartment door sliding open jolted me out of my reverie. Both of us looked up to find Draco, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle staring in horror.

'You!' was all Draco said, staring at Bouilloire. 'Garçon!'

'Actually, it's Simon now. Simon Murray,' Bouilloire said. 'It's nice to see you again, Malfoy.'

Draco scowled at him. 'I thought you'd gone.' I extracted myself from Bouilloire's arms.

'What, and leave Lark all to you?' Bouilloire mocked. 'Not likely. I'm going to make her mine, so you better watch out.'

Draco's face went bright red and he grabbed me by the hand, yanking me away from Bouilloire. 'You stay away from both of us, filthy..!'

Before I knew what was happening, Bouilloire had snatched out his wand and had it pointed at Draco who had copied the stance. 'Oh come _on_!' I cried. 'Just put them away before I...'

'Impervious!' Bouilloire screamed. Draco immediately countered it, looking at Bouilloire with such fury I thought he might throw down his wand and simply attack the other boy with fists.

'What are you playing at?' he roared. 'What were you trying to do, _waterproof _me?'

Students were starting to peek out of their compartments to see what all the fuss and noise was about. Bouilloire glanced around nervously.

'No, I was trying to bind your legs together, so you'd fall...'

'That's "Impedimenta", you _git_, "Impervious" is used to _waterproof_ things!' Malfoy cried. Bouilloire flushed red, glancing sideways at me.

Before either of them could utter another spell, however, my compartment door shot open and four voices cried 'Stupify!'

Draco and Bouilloire dropped to the floor, twin, stunned expressions on their faces. Harry, Ron, Hermione and even Luna grinned at me.

'Looks like it's going to be another exciting year,' Harry said. Ron snorted and kicked out at Bouilloire's leg.

'Great. Just great,' he muttered.

**THE END.**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Wow, so. That's it. Finished.

Sorry that it took me so long, guys :x

And a few people have asked, and I know I've left it open for one, but I will not be writing a sequel. Maybe if I had more time, but at the moment I've got too many other projects that I need to focus on. I'm writing a novel and a manga, so yeah c:

Either way. I want to thank you very much for accompanying me on this journey that was my story! I hope you enjoyed it, and I want to thank everyone who ever favourited, alerted or even just read my story c: It does mean so much to me that someone liked my writing.

If anybody has any questions they can either contact me here or email me, ecmmi-fish at hotmail dot com. c:

I hope you've enjoyed. And thank you everyone for all your kind and supporting words as I wrote.

It's been just under a year and a month since I posted the (awful) prologue. I believe that the difference in quality between Chapter One and the Epilogue is humongous. XD

Thank you so much.

- Ecm


	36. A Letter to my Readers

Hello everyone!

I'm aware a lot of people are still following this story in case of alerts/because they did so while it was being written. I won't be updating it again – sorry to say – but I do write and draw in my free time. I'm hoping to be putting up my novel soon, as I've written a fair bit of it. I am not sure, but if anyone would be interested in seeing any of it I'd be really happy. If you liked my writing, I guess this is your chance to see some more!

Here's a little excerpt, but it's subject to change and stuff:

_A few hours later, Flick woke again. The house was dark and a light scatter of snow fell outside her window. Her head seemed to have cleared, and she felt comfortably warm. Something had woken her, though, and she turned to look out the window._

_It stood by the front gate, the shadowy figure of a man. Towering over almost everything, half as tall as the street lamp that illuminated it, it swayed slightly in the breeze. Flick didn't feel afraid this time, and she could feel it calling her out._

_Getting up she discovered that only a small amount of dizziness remained. Unaffected, she pulled on a warm jumper that used to be her dad's before lacing up her boots. In the hall she grabbed her beanie, but left the rest of her warm gear. She'd only go out for a moment, and then she'd be back._

_Her body still felt strangely warm, and even out in the night air she felt comfortable. Closing the door quietly behind her she crunched through the snow towards the figure._

_As she drew close, the eerie sensation returned. Faltering for a moment, she was shocked to see it had no face exactly, just the impression of one. Two indents for eyes, and a little bulge for a nose, it still managed to stare at her intently. Finally coming to stand beside it, staring at it in awe, it extended its hand._

It is fantasy and stuff.

You can find me on DeviantArt as Emmichuu, and on tumblr by the same name. If you are interested! Make sure to include the double 'u's.  
I'm aware this is sort of spam, but… hopefully no one minds. If they do, feel free to take it down :x

Thanks for reading c:


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